Tainted Desire
by aTasteOfDarkness
Summary: Most people, had they found themselves in occupying the body of a character in a book they enjoyed, would have tried to make sure the story ended happily for all that was involved. Not me. I wasn't stupid enough to miss the chance the forge my own destiny in a new universe, especially not when I found myself in the body of infamous Draco Malfoy. (Erotica, NTR)
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.**

 **Notes: This work will be mostly about the sexual themes, especially on the darker side such as domination and manipulation. If you don't like such themes, you shouldn't read. And lemons, lots and lots of lemons.**

* * *

What would you do if you died, courtesy of a drunk truck driver, and instead of waking up in hell or fading into blackness forever, you found yourself in another body. What if that body belonged to a familiar fictional character, facing the biggest decision of his life.

For me, the answer was simple. When I suddenly found myself in Draco Malfoy's body, standing in front of a robed, bearded figure that his new body's memories identified as Dumbledore, about to witness one of the most important events of the history of this world. A moment I recognized easily as the climax moment of the Half-Blood Prince.

I barely needed to think before a shout of Expelliarmus left my lips and a red light smashed him, making Elder Wand fly away uncontrollably. However, I suspect the reason why I did wasn't the same with what most others would. Some, I assume, would do to keep Dumbledore's plan intact, while others would do in a weird attempt to keep the timeline stable so they could predict what would happen next.

Me, I wanted the possession and allegiance of the strongest wand of the world. I barely paid attention to Dumbledore's subsequent begging about the light side, nor I paid much attention to Snape's anguish as he tried to gather his courage to kill his mentor. My whole attention was to cast two spells without someone noticing, happy that Draco's skills were available for me. First, a switching spell, switching Draco's old wand and Elder Wand, causing a comfortable warmth to spread in my body as soon as I held it in between my fingers. With the possession of the Elder Wand, the second spell was ridiculously easy, transforming the shape of my old wand to Elder Wand, and putting an illusion on the Elder Wand to make it look like my own wand. And just like that, I had the possession of the strongest wand in the world.

My body moved automatically during the escape, my mind busy with the possibilities afforded by the situation I found myself in. The future was filled with promises…

* * *

After the escape, I had found myself in front of Voldemort and Death Eaters. I must admit that I was a bit fearful. Despite the presence of Death Stick, I wasn't stupid enough to assume I could fight against him, especially when a significant part of the Death Eaters were waiting in the corner. Thankfully, Snape's 'heroic' success was enough to take the spotlight, reducing me to a decoration. Draco might have been unhappy with that development, but it suited my aims perfectly. I strongly doubted that the occlumency ability I had inherited from Draco was strong enough hide the fact that a different consciousness currently occupied the body they once called Draco.

The ceremony held in honor of Snape's success continued with no sign of stopping, looking like it would go for hours. I was glad, because it made even easier for me to fade into the shadows and depart the event. I walked towards Draco's room, wanting to stay alone while I tested the limits of my newfound abilities.

I was surprised to realize that Draco never, not even once, tried to test the limits of the magic, restricting his peak to a few flashy spells taught by his father and the cantrips he learned in Hogwarts. What a waste, he had the power to rewrite the reality and shape others to his will, and the only thing he exerted his power was to humiliate and bully people in the school. Such a sad loss of potential. Of course, I had no intention of limiting myself like that. The word was my oyster.

I gone through several spells, conjurations, transfigurations and combat hexes, all flowing through my wand effortlessly. I wasn't sure about the reason, maybe it was the Elder Wand that made the difference, maybe it was the difference in perception and understanding coming from dying and resurrecting in a different body, but the spells I have tried worked much better compared to Draco's earlier tries. I smiled, more power was always a nice thing. Still, even with the upgrade, I was aware that the power I possessed paled compared to Voldemort's and now deceased Dumbledore's. A detail that I'll fix as soon as possible. I had no intention of living under the whims of a madman.

Then, the door opened without knocking and someone walked inside. A blond, pretty woman very familiar to Draco Malfoy, considering she was his mother. If Draco had been still in possession of his body, he would have felt relief to see the one person that loved him unconditionally. Me, I felt apprehension, because I didn't believe I could act good enough to convince Narcissa, even with the full set of memories I had access to.

"Are you okay my son," she said, the concern clear in her tone, seeping through her distanced demeanor.

It took a significant bit of effort to keep a satisfied smile off my face. With the level of concern she had, she would most likely dismiss any detail that didn't match as another effect coming from the stress of his failure. It wasn't a bad guess to be honest, working uninterrupted for the whole year to kill Dumbledore, only to fail in the last minute would have been devastating for Draco. It was convenient that he was gone forever. "I'm okay, mum," I said, trying to sound depressive as much as possible. It was in my benefit for her to think I was depressed, she would be concerned about how to fix my behavior changes instead of trying to notice every little difference.

She said nothing, just wrapped her arms around me, pulling me into a hug. Draco would have felt comforted, but me, feeling her bountiful breasts just under my chin, her smell filling my nose… I was beset by a wave of arousal, not a surprise, considering I was being hugged by one of the most amazing MILF's I had the pleasure meeting. The temptation was strong. Despite the risk, I was unable to prevent myself from putting my hands in a place dangerously close to her bottom, three of my fingers resting on her plumpness. She stiffened momentarily as I pulled her even closer, smashing her breasts to my chest, but no word of protest left her mouth as she gently caressed my back in a misguided attempt to console.

"Mum, I want to stay alone," I said a minute later.

"Of course, my dragon," she said, and left the room after caressing my hair for one last time, assuming that I wanted to stay alone because I was depressed. In actuality, I wanted her to leave because of the raging boner I was sporting. It wouldn't make sense for Narcissa to notice it just yet, as learning that her 'son' was feeling carnal desires towards her was not in my hastily constructed plans. Not yet, at least. Soon, she would learn that fact, but not before I softened her approach and manipulated her mind enough to accept my presence. I was aware of the dark smile spreading through my face as I imagined Narcissa writhing under me in a mixture of guilt and pleasure, enjoying the forbidden fruit of her own son. "Soon," I whispered.

Of course, I wasn't naive enough to think it would be easy. Technically, one Imperio was enough, but there was no victory to revel in such a case. I could go pay an escort instead of that, and it would be better. I wanted her to agonize between her arousal and her taboos. Of course, I was living in magical world, and I was sure that there was more than one tool I could use for that aim.

I went to the library, and started browsing on the love and lust potions. Not the strong ones. Amortentia was the same as Imperio, forcing her to fulfill all of my desires with no concern of her own. Instead, I focused on the weakest ones, ones just enhances the lust and love a bit. There was also another benefit of the weak ones. There were almost impossible to detect a couple of hours after application. For the magical world, there was nothing more than bedroom aids and gimmicks. I, on the other hand, was aware of the true potential they carried, how they could be used in a long time period to condition someone to new behavior while using them as rewards, especially when combined with the mundane drugs like ecstasy.

After changing into a casual disguise, I left for Knockturn Alley, and purchased a large spread of potions, perfumes, and oils, most geared for lust. I had no intention to limit myself to just Narcissa, after all, not while this world has many amazing women, all ready for my tender attention. And they would provide me an adequate distraction as my other plans to create my own power base slowly developed.

Still, there was one more stop before I returned home. I went to mundane London, and looked for a particular residence, the Granger residence. I wanted to have some leverage over so called the light side if the things went unexpected. The residence was ridiculously easy to find through the phone book, and an apparition later, I was in front of the house, camouflaged by a disillusionment charm. The door was open, so I sneaked inside. I wasn't concerned about getting caught, mostly because Hermione was still in Hogwarts. The lights were on, but there was no one downstairs. I moved to the upstairs, and could hear the water flowing behind the door. I carefully turned the door open, hoping whoever was behind the door wasn't Hermione's father.

The view of the door caught me by surprise. Since Hermione was seventeen, it was likely that her mother was in her forties, or late thirties at best. But the woman currently showering didn't look a day over thirty, a well-maintained, beautiful thirty years old. Her shapely body didn't have a bit of excess fat, probably the result of a meticulous exercise regime. Her breasts were large but shapely, too shapely to be natural, but it had been a masterful medical intervention. I could feel my pants tighten. Joining her under the warm flowing water was such an attractive idea, especially since it took only a whisper to make it a reality. But I held back, restricting my spells to several really obscure tracking charms hidden in the Malfoy family Grimore. Ones that need special charms to detect and dispel. Keeping track of her after Hermione changed their memories and sent them to Australia was very important. Knowing her location would allow me to control Hermione, the most important person of of the upcoming struggle.

Still, I had no intention of leaving completely empty-handed. I have reached one of the bottles I had recently purchased, a strong lust perfume. Careful not to make any noise, I walked towards her and puffed the perfume to her face. She barely registered the spray amongst the flowing water, and I stepped back, unbuttoning my pants in preparation for the next scene. It didn't take long for her expression to shift, biting her lips alluringly. She started to rub her legs in anticipation, her hands starting to spend an inordinate time on her breasts.

I wrapped my hands around my cock as she happily moaned, beating it with rhythmic movements. One of her hands moved towards her pussy, two of her fingers sliding inside effortlessly. Her moans rose even further, bringing my pleasure to a new level. There was a unique, perverse pleasure from staying hidden.

A few seconds later, she managed to surprise me even further. She reached for a shampoo bottle, a bit thicker than a male appendage, and slid the bottom of it without wasting any time. Half of the bottle disappeared in an instant, only to reappear a moment later, glistening with her juices, her eyes closed in pleasure. I took a few steps towards her. I could feel my own pleasure nearing its peak, and I had no intention of wasting the moment. As her moans intensified, signifying an imminent climax, I sprayed my seed over her back, covering her delectable ass with my seed, only to wash away a minute later. Then, I walked out, leaving the spent beauty behind. I would be waiting very enthusiastically for Hermione to send her away for her protection, only for her to end up in my arms.

* * *

It was quite late when I returned to the manor. I knew the best thing to do would be to return my room and continue my research, less change I made, the better. However, watching Hermione's mom in the shower made me quite horny, making me more aggressive about my plan. I walked towards the room Narcissa was using as her bedroom after a brief pause to change into sleepwear. I had no fear of meeting with Lucius in her room, because they had separate rooms according to Draco's memories. I stood in front of the door, trying to put a depressed expression on my face, and knocked the door.

"Who is it?" Narcissa said, startled a bit.

"It's me, mom," I answered, trying to make myself sound depressed.

A few seconds later, the door opened, revealing Narcissa as she tried to wrap a robe around her. "Did something happen?" she asked in a panicked voice.

"Can I come in," I said, keeping my gaze low.

"Of course, my dragon," she said and pulled back, letting me join her in her room. "What happened?" she said after I entered the room.

"I had trouble sleeping," I murmured, trying to sound as pathetic as possible, hoping that would hide my enthusiasm. "Dumbledore's face is appearing whenever I close my eyes."

"Oh my poor son," she said and hugged me.

I turned slightly to hide my boner, as the sensations from her silk-wrapped body didn't help my efforts to keep things under control, her robe and nightie doing little to hide her body from touch as my hands slowly roamed her back. I was so tempted to push her down and enjoy her body, but held myself back. I didn't want to ruin my plan with an untimely indulgence. "May I stay with you tonight?" I asked.

She pulled out of the hug and looked at me with shock. I could almost see the thoughts flying behind her startled expression, trying to understand my sudden change of behavior, but soon, her expression softened, doubtlessly blaming the stress Draco was under for the situation. "Of course you can, Draco," she said, trying to smile in a carefree way, though I could easily see the worry peeking under her fake expression. Someone nicer than me would be feeling guilty about her motherly instincts to attain such an achievement, but unfortunately for her, I wasn't a nice person.

Neither of us spoke as I slid under the covers while she turned off the lights. I listened her removing her robe, then she joined me under the covers. I wasted no time before wrapping my arms around her torso and pulling her closer. She stiffened, but said nothing, moving a bit to make sure she was comfortable. A couple minutes later, I was in a fake sleep. Narcissa lay motionless, but it was clear that she was still awake.

Of course, her relative calmness wasn't to last. I had brought one of the lust potions with me, one applied through skin absorption. I brought my hand into my pocket, putting a decent amount of it to my hand, significantly more than the recommended amount. I put my hand over her naked leg, glad that this particular potion was barely noticeable during the application process. I slowly dragged my hand on her skin, once again surprised how smooth it felt.

She squirmed a little under my touch, as it landed on her thighs, but she didn't act out after realizing my hand wasn't climbing upwards. I poured some more potion to my hand and applied just in case. After all, I was planning to make her break a really important taboo. Of course, there was a side effect of applying the potion with my bare hands, a generous portion of it seeped into my own bloodstream, making my cock to flare into the life. Thankfully, Narcissa's body wasn't close enough my waist to notice. I moved my hand back to her torso and wrapped it around her waist, loose enough to not to make her uncomfortable, but tight enough to make sure she won't be able to slip out of the bed when the arousal finally hit.

First effects appeared after fifteen minutes, fifteen long, agonizing minute, with nothing to do other than listening to my excited heartbeat. First, she shifted her position, hoping that it would fix her issues. Then, her lethargy evaporated, and she started to squirm. I let my hands settle on her midriff, but otherwise stood completely still. Soon, her squirms turned into writhings, and she tried to stand up from the bed, but I made sure to act the part of a clingy sleeper, keeping my arms firmly around her waist. Unable to stand up, she shook my shoulder a few times, but I continued to play sleeping.

It didn't take long for her to give up, which surprised me. I was expecting for her to struggle harder. For a moment, I was afraid that she had more willpower than had previously assumed, and the night was going to be a dud. But then, she shifted between my arms and turned her back to me. More importantly, I noticed her hand sneaking down under her robes. Knowing she cannot see my face, I let a smile pop on my face as I listened to her quickened breaths. I waited a couple of minutes, enjoying her frantic breathing, getting more out of control every second.

Then, without a warning, I pulled her close, my erection resting between her tight buttocks. Her whole body froze for a second, then she tried to pull away, only to be prevented by my grip once more. "Please wake up, son," she asked even as she shook my shoulder, but I continued to act like I was asleep. This time, keeping the sleeping act was even more difficult, considering the pleasure was spreading to my body with each movement. I was happy when she turned her back to me once more, but it didn't compare to when her hand sneaked under her robe once more, rubbing herself rhythmically.

Apparently, I have overused the potion on Narcissa, because it took three climaxes for her to finally settle to an uncomfortable sleep. Keeping myself from climaxing had quickly become a torture, even before she managed to finish the first one. The second and third ones were pure agony, enough for me consider loosening my grip and let her go to the bathroom. I didn't, because in the end, her every uncontrolled hip movement was pure pleasure.

And now, she exhausted herself to the sleep, it was my turn. I waited until I was sure she was asleep, then slid my hands upwards until her tits rested between my palms, then stopped for a while, until I made sure that she was still asleep. Then, I squeezed lightly, my fingers sinking slightly into her breasts. I could feel her heartbeat quickening despite her sleep, courtesy of her sensitivity, enhanced to a ridiculous degree by the liberal application of potions. I wanted to squeeze until she squawked with pleasure, overwhelmed by ecstasy, but unfortunately, my plans required patience. After all, I didn't want just a quick fuck off her, I wanted to capture her completely, body, heart, and soul.

So, mirroring her earlier actions, I had sneaked my hand inside my pants, and started jacking off while the other gently caressed her breasts over the cloth. Already overcharged, it didn't take for me to release my load, ruining my pants with my sticky fluids. I was tempted to whip out my cock and paint her ass white, but glorious visions of future held me back. I let the euphoria from the release to wrap my mind, pushing me into the arms of the sleep…


	2. Chapter 2

When I woke up, the first thought it was a nice dream, a dream hard to wake up. But I squeezed my hands, only to feel something squishy pressing against my fingers, and a moan rang in the room, pushing me back to sleep.

"Son," I heard her speaking, her words barely audible between the moan. "Can you pull your hands away."

"Sorry mom," I murmured, trying to sound as guilty as possible while I pulled my hands away. "I was asleep."

"It's okay," she said, standing up instantly. "I need to go to the bathroom," she added, and started walking away without waiting for my reply. At first, I thought her calm reaction to my hands was weird, especially since apparently she was awake for a while in that position, then I noticed a suspicious wet spot on the back of her robe. I smiled. Apparently, I misjudged just how hard it was going to succeed in my plan. It had been quite a while since Narcissa had an assisted release. Apparently, Lucius' short stay in Azkaban hurt him more than I previously assumed, preventing him from paying necessary attention to his wife. I shrugged, his lost, my gain.

I could hear the bath filling, and I had some ideas about how Narcissa would spend her time in there. I wanted to sneak inside. I had no doubt that it would be a view worth remembering, but I held myself back. I had important things to do.

After a brief visit to my room. I slipped to the library until the evening, this time focusing on memory modification charms and legimency. It would be nice to have access to some non-deadly options other than imperius if someone noticed something was out of order. Not to mention knowing legimency helped me better manage my occlumency. The studying lasted until the evening, then I changed into some nondescript clothing, and apparated to Knuckturn Alley. For half an hour, I walked randomly, hoping to find my target. Apparently, the luck was on my side, because I managed to catch a shady figure, trying to sell some silverware. Silverware stamped by the Black Family Crest.

I walked towards him. "Are you Mungundus Fletcher?"

"Yes," he answered, his tone already shifting into a smarmy salesman tone. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

Derision rose inside me. He was really pathetic, unbelievably so considering he had the power to rewrite the reality. I didn't even bother speaking, just pointed him with my wand. "Imperio," I murmured. The spell took hold instantly, facing no resistance. "Where is the Order Headquarters," I asked. I know that, since Dumbledore is already dead, everyone that was aware of the secret could share it.

"Grimmauld Place, Number Twelve," he answered. I felt something clicking inside my mind as I was included in the cover of Fidelius.

"Good," I murmured. "Now, you will go there, and pick some more silverware to steal. You will also search and find a green amulet with snakes on it. You will also get it without hurting anyone, house-elf included, and bring that to me. Now, go." He disappeared, and I started waiting, hoping it would work. Possessing that amulet was a key to my plans, allowing me to manipulate many different people. Thankfully, Mungundus teleported back an hour later, and passed the item to me. A memory charm later, Mungundus lost all memories of their encounter, replaced by the memory of selling the amulet to a random person. I apparated back to the mansion, my mind already on my next encounter with Narcissa.

After a brief stop in my room and hid Voldemort's necklace in a sock drawer, casting a few concealment spells for good measure. Then I took a quick shower, changed into my sleepwear. I reached for another bottle of lust potion I procured, this time in perfume form, and sprayed myself radically with it. It was a light one, but I hoped it would be enough help me dismiss her objections. There was no doubt that she would be feeling hesitant after the last night.

I knocked Narcissa's door, though when I pressed my ear to the door, I heard a muffled moan. "Still?" I murmured myself in excitement. The cream I used had a notoriously short effect time, most of it fading after two hours. If she was still continuing her actions, it was very good news. Erasing the smug smile from my lips took quite a bit of time. I considered entering without knocking, but she wasn't ready for such direct intervention yet. Instead, I cast an unlocking spell on the door, unlocking it silently. Then I knocked the door. "Mom, I'm coming in!" I said, disregarding her shocked cry, and started to turn the doorknob. Still, I was deliberately slow in entering, wanting to give her time to gather herself. The euphoria of barely escaping being caught would fit much better into my plans.

The view I met when I walked inside was exquisite. She was lying on the bed, a hastily pulled cover on her. Her face was vermilion, her breathing hard. A pair of panties were on the ground, a few feet away from the bed, looking like they were thrown hastily, like the wearer of them were in a hurry. I could feel a stirring in my pants, so I started walking towards her bed.

"What are you doing, son?" she asked in a panic.

"I'm getting ready to sleep, mom," I answered, deliberately keeping my voice casual. "Last night was the first sleep without nightmares in last six months," I continued, injecting a bit of sadness in my tone. "You wouldn't deprive me off it, right?" Targeting her maternal instincts was enough to stall her to inaction for a few seconds, enough time for me to slip under the covers and wrap my hands around her waist. I could feel the thin fabric of her sleepwear under my touch, and a light touch of my little finger confirmed the absence of her underwear. I could feel her freezing in indecision. After all, she couldn't even stand up without displaying her distinct lack of panties. And while it would have made sense for her to ask for an excuse, or even ask me to close my eyes, being interrupted in the middle of the masturbation session wasn't very conductive for critical thinking. The lust perfume I was wearing wasn't helping her to calm her mind, I was sure.

I let her continue laying motionless on her back, trying to come up with a solution, my hands tight around her waist, my head resting on her shoulder. I could feel her heartbeat thumping, out of control, her shallow breaths ringing in my ears. Despite doing my best to keep my expression clueless, I could feel the edge of my cheeks tugging. "Good night," I murmured, trying to act like I was about to fall asleep.

Just like the previous night, I feigned sleep, and just like last night, she started struggling to get away without waking me up, only to fail. Her tries soon faded. It didn't take long for her to realize she was facing the same situation with the night before, locked in place, with no way to pull away for hours without 'waking' me up. Still, I was surprised with the amount she decided to wait. Barely five minutes later, she turned her back to him once more, her hand was already on her pussy, her fingers sliding inside.

I decided to speed up my plan. Even with the addition of the lust potions, her reactions were much harder than I assumed, which could cause for her to search for alternatives. Lucius wasn't around, away on a mission, but it didn't change the fact that she was currently easy mark for every two-bit predatory Death Eater. I had no intention to share her.

So, I waited until her breathing started to go out of control, then moved my hands while acting like I was asleep. The hem of her negligee was already up, so my hands easily slipped under it, resting on her naked stomach. Her whole body froze as soon as our skin touched. "Son," she murmured hesitantly. "Son, are you awake." I continued playing dead, and soon, her courage, or her arousal returned in full force, her fingers moving once more.

Again, I waited until her pleasure was high enough that she was having trouble to keep her voice low. Then, it was the time for me to act once more. This time, I elected to suddenly pull her tighter, my cock resting between her naked ass cheeks. I wasn't surprised when she stiffened, but I stiffened as well when her hands started moving once more, her hips moving in tandem. Her movement was so sudden that I barely held back a moan. Curious to test her limits, I let one of my hands crawl upwards as she rocked her body, until it touched the bottom of her breasts.

She didn't even bother to slow down before she gently grabbed my wrist, but contrary to my expectation, she gently pushed it over her breast instead of pulling it away. I suddenly found myself palming her generous breasts, my cock getting even harder. I cursed the presence of my pajamas, numbing the precious sensations as she rubbed her body against mine. I took a deep breath, trying to focus on the feeling, hoping to catch my own release before hers, but it was in vain. She started shuddering before I could reach a climax of my own, her moans momentarily filling the room. I could feel her drifting to sleep, leaving me with a full arousal.

I could have cast a stunner and finished myself, but I didn't do so. After all, despite being unknowing, she teased me mercilessly. Half an hour later, I drifted to sleep, my mind busy with the plan for the morning…

I was lucky to be able to wake up before Narcissa, my hand still on her tits, my morning wood trying to push her naked ass cheeks. For a moment, I considered pulling my hand back and fixing her clothes before she woke up, but I didn't put that plan to the action, mainly because she was more than willing to sleep with my hand there. I wanted to see her reaction after waking up, especially after I dabbed some lust cream on her thighs once more. I reached the bottle and poured a generous amount to my hand, then dragged my hand on her thighs, careful not to wake her up, then continued to play possum.

With the addition of the potion, it didn't take long for her to stir up once again. I held my breath, curious what she would do. Even with the last night's events, her reaction managed to surprise me. When her hand reached the one that was holding her breast, I was expecting her to try to pry my fingers away, not putting pressure to sank my fingers into her flesh. She started to grind her hips to my cock once more, separated just by my sleepwear, moans starting to escape her mouth almost instantly. I was so tempted to push her down and fuck her mercilessly, but I held back. I could easily see that her courage was artificially raised by her lust, and I didn't want to test just how good it would stand against my active involvement. So, I held myself back…

For now…

* * *

It had been one week since I had first entered Narcissa's bed. During the week, I did nothing other than studying magic during the daytime, and slowly teasing Narcissa during the nighttime. I had yet to go farther than the second night, when I molested her naked breasts. But during the week, I gradually reduced the amount of lust perfume and cream I was using, so much that, yesterday, I had used nothing but a dab of perfume, and she had rubbed herself raw while grinding to my sleeping body. Lucius being sent away on a mission was a godsend gift, robbing Narcissa of only convenient outlet she had.

This time I didn't even bother to knock the door, and pushed it open after an unlocking charm, only to see Narcissa trying to push her negligee down, her breathing shallow, her panties absent. I could see her fingers still glistening with her juices. "What did I say about entering without knocking, Draco?" she said, but her tone was far from angry, filled with excitement instead, flared by the thought of being caught.

"Sorry, mom. I won't do it again," I said, both of us aware it would happen once again. We talked a bit casually, while she was doing her best to keep her short negligee down to hide the absence of her panties. A useless gesture, considering the clothes she wore tonight was even thinner than usual, making the absence of her underwear clear very distinct. I could easily see the shape and color of her spectacular breasts, their small pink areolas peeking through the dark fabric of her clothes. She looked like she intended to be under covers when I arrived, but the miscalculation didn't seem to bother her. She only had a gentle blush covering her face while she tried to act unaware of her revealing state. "So, how do you feel?"

"I feel fine, why do you ask?"

"You look a bit tense. How about a massage. I don't want you to have an uncomfortable sleep."

For a moment, Narcissa looked indecisive, so I walked towards her, careful not to let my gaze wonder over her body. "Sure, why not," she murmured, and laid on the bed. I smiled. I wasn't expecting her to agree that quickly, not that I had any complaints about her quick compliance. I started with her neck, gently rubbing her smooth skin. Of course, she wasn't aware that my fingers were covered with a thin film of lust cream.

She started purring softly before I even reached her shoulders. I hooked my finger to the straps of her negligee, and slid them down. She didn't notice, at least not until I slid her negligee down enough to most of her back. "Son?" she spoke in a slightly alarmed tone.

"It's hard to do it efficiently through the fabric," I said, pressing my hands hard on her back. A loud moan escaped her mouth, but she didn't say anything else as I continued to caress her back, not even when my fingers caressed the edge of her breasts. When I finally reached her bottom, I skipped it, shifting down to her feet instead. A silent, disappointed hiss left her mouth left her mouth as I skipped her ass.

I focused on her feet, raising them a bit even as my fingers danced over them. I started climbing, first to her calves, then to her thighs, pushing her negligee up on every beat. Soon, I managed to push her negligee enough to reveal the unobstructed view of her pussy, sopping wet with arousal, without her realizing. I lingered over her thighs for a long while, rubbing generous portions from the lust cream. Soon, she stopped bothering to keep her voice low, every moan ringing between the walls. It was finally time to move to the next step.

I didn't ask for permission before moving my hands to her ass, sinking my fingers deep without a warning. A shocked moan escaped her mouth, erotic enough to make my pants uncomfortably tight. Still, her protest came suspiciously late. "Son, what are you doing?" she asked almost a full minute later, her voice suspiciously muffled.

"I'm massaging you mom," I answered, letting my fingers delve deeper. "I can get away if you aren't feeling comfortable, but I don't see the big deal," I said, my tone intentionally calm, like it wasn't a big deal for a son to molest his mother's ass. But in her addled state, she chose to take the statement at face value. She stayed silent, and I continued massaging her ass, getting a bit closer to her wet fold with every pass. A word of protest never passed her lips, even when my fingers brushed her sopping wet folds.

I could easily see that she was at the edge of a release, so I decided to finally stop my gentle approach, trusting the lust potion and her own overcharged state to do the rest. I sat on her legs, and pressed one hand on the small of her back to keep her sufficiently immobile. Then, I reached for my wand and cast a very low powered conducive charm to further disoriented her. I licked my fingers, and pushed two fingers into her pussy, burying all of my digits inside her. A shocked cry left her mouth, but I didn't stop even for a moment, my fingers slipping in an out without any mercy. "Son, what are-" she started, only to be interrupted by a moan. She tried to stand up, but the light pressure from my hand was enough to keep her in place. "Son, please- please stop. It's not right?"

"Come on mom, isn't it better than waiting until I was asleep then rubbing yourself until you fell unconscious. At least, by this way, you are receiving my full attention."

"You were awake!" she exclaimed in shock, not even bothering to deny.

"Yeah, I was," I said. "But don't worry, it's not a bother. It's not like we are having sex. It's just massage in a different way, and I'm always willing to help you, mom. You are precious to me." My last words, added to the already confusing cacophony she was suffering under, was enough to silence her completely. She just lay there, wordless, writhing under my fingers. Soon, and orgasm hit her with the full force, filling the room with her cries, her warm juices flowing around my fingers. Still, I haven't slowed down a bit, pushing my fingers deep inside her again and again without mercy. Seconds turned into minutes, but only moans escaped her mouth as I finger-banged her without mercy. Then, after the fourth earth-shattering orgasm, she finally fell unconscious. I made sure to put her panties and bra on, then dressed her in the negligee. Then I pulled the cover over us, wrapped my arms around her, and let the sleep to catch-up with me.

* * *

 **Author notes: Hello everyone. Hope everyone enjoyed the chapter. I also have a quick announcement, my P/atreon page is up under the name of Dirk Grey, and I will be displaying my original stories there. I would be glad for any support.**

 **Hope everyone enjoyed the the chapter, and don't forget to favorite and review.**


	3. Chapter 3

In the morning, I had managed to wake up before Narcissa, which was a lucky turn since I had forgotten to set up an alarm. Her waking up before me would have been bad, panicking without my attempts to manage the fallout. But since I was awake before her, I had some time to prepare the field. I reached for the tube of lust cream I had leveraged last night, and spread a generous dab over her inner thigh once more, enjoying the every second my hands were exploring her skin. I wanted her to wake up horny and disoriented, which would prove productive for my manipulation attempts. With the massage complete, I wrapped my arms around her torso, and started waiting for her to wake up. Of course, my hands continued caressing her body, assisting the impact of the cream, not to mention enjoying the opportunity provided. I just did it slower, careful not to wake up.

It took a while for the cream, triggered by the cream and my touches, she started stirring. "Good morning, mom," I said, my voice cheerful. "Did you sleep well?"

"Good morning to you too, Draco," she answered, her voice as hesitant as it was the first day. "I slept well," she murmured.

"Happy to hear that, mom," I said, tightening my hold on her, my hands moving across her belly. She tried to get away, but I didn't allow despite her struggling.

"Draco," she said with a trembling voice, barely above a whisper. "I need to visit the bathroom, could you let me go please."

"Sorry, mom," I answered, loosening my arms, but caressing the bottom of her spectacular breasts, and earning an erotic tremble for my efforts. I watched as she stood up, walking towards the bathroom, not caring about the lack of her panties, her nightwear a poor substitute.

I stood up as well, and spoke before she could disappear at the bathroom door. "I have things to do as well, so I see you in the evening," I said as I walked towards her, who suddenly looked like a cornered rabbit as what I was saying clicked. Uncaring, I leaned forward and placed a small peck on her cheek, then walked away, satisfied to see her hand was raised almost automatically, caressing the trail that was left by my lips.

* * *

After a quick shower in my room, I was ready to go out to support my plans. My first destination was Grimmauld Place. It had been a week since Kreacher's amulet had been taken. He must have been tortured by its absence enough to make him willing to do anything to get it back, especially if those recommendations were about to come from a pureblood offspring of Black Family.

I appeared a few streets away from the house, already wrapped in a disillusionment charm. I saw just how good of an idea it was when I noticed two robed figure sticking like a sore thumb, clearly Death Eaters, new recruits if their sheer stupidity and incompetence was any indicator. Carefully, I walked towards the door, relaxing only after I slid under the Fidelius' cover. Then I turned the knob open, and sneaked inside.

Despite expecting, I was still startled by the sudden appearance of Kreacher, his hands raised, ready to blast. "Stop, Kreacher," I said, my voice rising in panic. I dispelled my cloaking spell after seeing no immediate attack.

"Who are you," Kreacher asked, suspicion flowing off him like a river. Still, he halted his attack, allowing me to make my case.

"I'm Draco Malfoy, Heir of the Malfoys and a son of the Blacks." The way Kreacher's face lighted up was enough to put a smile, even to the face of a cynical bastard like me. After all, the loyalty and commitment of the house elves was something to behold, especially considering just how little they expected in return. Wizards were truly idiots not showing them the slightest appreciation. "I came to visit the house of my ancestors."

"Oh young master," Kreacher wailed, hitting his head repeatedly. "Kreacher is sorry. The house is used by blood-traitors and mudbloods, and Kreacher wasn't able to keep them out. They even stole the treasures of the Black Family."

"Stop," I ordered him. While I didn't have any magical authority over him, I hoped that the respect he had for my position would be enough to make him follow my orders. My expectations turned out to be accurate. He froze for a moment, then returned to a waiting position. "I understand it's the order of the previous owner of the house, and it wasn't something you could have stopped. You are a house-elf worthy to be a part of the Black Family." His expression brightened like a Christmas tree, and his mouth opened to say something, only to close without any sound. "Good, now tell me, what did they take."

"They stole Master Regulus' amulet," Kreacher said, only to stiffen instantly, realizing it was something he should have kept hidden.

I didn't allow him any time to gather himself. "Describe it to me, and why it's important." Just like before, Kreacher acted like my orders were legitimate, proving that habits could be as strong as magic. He explained the story of Regulus Black, losing his life in an attempt to steal Voldemort's amulet. It surprised me that he opened to me that easily, but he must have been feeling truly hopeless without it. "Don't worry," I said to Kreacher, reaching to my magic. "I promise on the honor of the Black and Malfoy families that I will bring that amulet back and destroy it." The magic flared around me, sealing the promise.

"Thank you, master," Kreacher said, his voice hitched. I could understand, it was probably the first time since Regulus that someone Kreacher deemed consequential did something for Kreacher, and a magic backed promise was nothing to underestimated even between the wizards. Still, it was a very small price to receive an obsessively loyal servant in return, especially since it required nothing I didn't already have from my side.

"Good," I said. "I know you belong to another master, for now, so I want you to never mention my presence in the house to him. I know you cannot deny if directly asked without hurting, but he has no reason to suspect I came here, so he shouldn't remember to ask as long as you don't hint anything." Kreacher nodded. "Now, show me the library." I wanted to examine the knowledge treasures of the Black family while Potter was away. After all, there was a reason for Blacks to be feared across Britain, even when they were whittled to the point of extinction. I was enthusiastic about to discover these reasons.

My plan was to spend the next two months in a deep study, until the 1st of August. The date where everything would change.

* * *

I was back in the Malfoy Manor, now pest-free, because Voldemort decided to move the house of his new favorite family, Notts. Fucking squatter, I thought. It was ridiculous just how easily those so-called proud purebloods bent knees to a fucking homeless creature. Just like that, two weeks passed since I visited the Grimmauld Place, and I was studying deep in my room, when I heard a knock on the door. "Come in," I said, without even bothering to raise my head.

I heard a door opening and closing. "Hello, Draco," Narcissa said with a tender tone, one that could be mixed with a familial closeness, except the undertone of the lust, detectable only because I knew what to look for.

"Hi mom," I said, raising my head. I could see that she was wearing a night robe, and little else. The fabric was woefully inadequate for hiding anything, after all. "What brought you to my humble room?"

"I wanted to check how have you been. You were a bit distracted during the last week."

She was right, I wasn't paying attention to her during last few days. A change from the previous weeks, where I made sure to have an intimate contact with her, whether a full massage or just a casual, fleeting touch. What she didn't know, however, was that the lack of attention was intentional, because I wanted to force her to seek me. I knew that after getting used to regular massages -massages that was much more sensual than what was appropriate for the family- she was going to feel the effects of the withdrawal. "Sorry, mom," I said. "I wasn't intending to vanish like that, but I was busy with my studies." I turned my head to her, and acted like I just had an idea. "How about I give you another massage as an apology. It has been a while since we had any mother-son time."

"If that's not a bother," Narcissa murmured, but her twitching hands betraying her excitement. Assisted by the Draco's memories, she was very easy to read. Still, I was impressed by the ease I was able to break most of her taboos. Apparently, Lucius was even more distant than I assumed, neglecting such a spectacular example of womanhood. Of course, I was glad, with the breach provided by Lucius, it was almost trivial for me to invade her mind and soul. I smiled, a smile that was carefully crafted to tell that, yes, it was a bit of a bother, but I was happy to suffer it for her sake. Narcissa shed her robe almost instantly. Under it, she was wearing another nightwear, its fabric even poorer than the robe, it's semi-transparent texture not up to the task of hiding anything. This time, she was wearing underwear, but it was a lacy set that managed to exude sexiness better than nakedness.

She lay on my bed without the slightest concern, burying her face in my pillow. "Mom, remove the negligee, I want to use some massage oils this time, and let's not ruin your clothes." She followed my direction without the slightest hesitation, not commenting about the ridiculousness about her clothes being stained. After all, it took only a spell to clean it without any stain. She was on my bed, wearing only a set of skimpy underwear. It shouldn't be a surprise that I was sporting a raging hard-on, begging for a release.

I was tempted to reach for lust cream to quickly prime her before pushing my cock into her. After two weeks filled with intensive, full body massages that left no place of her body left untouched, she should be ready for it. After all, last few days, I hadn't even bothered to use the lust cream to prime her for my attention, my naked touch proving enough. I was sure that just a dash of the potion would be enough to push her enough that she shouldn't complain my cock inside her.

Still, I wasn't willing to take the risk for it, just in case she felt suspicious and decided to test her blood. The previous ones had already dissolved with no way to detect, but there was a chance they would be detected in the first twenty-four after they were applied, and I decided to not to take the risk in case she was struck with a sudden suspicion.

I didn't need it either, not with the trust I had for my own skills to convince her without any potion. I poured some massage oil to my hand, then started dragging my hands over her body. First, I started with neck, then moved to her shoulders after a brief delay. She was already moaning before I finished her back, although barely audible. Her hips rose unconsciously as I climbed up on her legs, diligently rubbing her upper thighs. I could see the fragile cloth covering her pussy was damp enough to turn half-transparent, forcing my cock to flare even harder.

As usual, no word of protest left her mouth, even when I finally reached her ass, mauling her plump cheeks without the slightest concern for shame. I could feel that it was time, proven when I hooked my fingers around her panties and pulled them down, revealing her bare, freshly shaved pussy, all without a word of protest. I slid my fingers inside her without the slightest concern about her response. I didn't fear that she would react negatively, not after I had spent a whole week massaging her to the edge of a climax, only to leave her there. She was aching for a release, her body burning with desire. And breaking the trend for the last few days just made her hungrier. After the weeks I spent playing her like a well-tuned instrument, I could easily feel an orgasm closing by, brought by a minute of concentrated attention on her wet folds.

I was so hard that it actually started to hurt. I decided enough was enough, and it was finally time to act. I pulled one of my hands away from her body, and used it to push my pants down, freeing my cock for the long-awaited second act. A shake of my legs later, I was naked waist down, ready to slip inside her. I rubbed my hand over my cock, covering it with oil. I had a feeling she would be too tight to accommodate my cock, so anything to reduce the friction was a good thing. I aligned my cock with her entrance, and took a deep breath, then pushed…

I was surprised when no words of protest left her mouth, though I had any intention of wasting the opportunity. I placed my hands on both sides of her to stabilize her body, and started slamming into her repeatedly, her tight tunnel squeezing my cock. I wondered for how long Lucius hadn't touched her, because she was as tight as a virgin. She tightened around my cock in an attempt to milk me, but I didn't want to stop, even momentarily. Stopping here would allow her to gather her wits, which was the last thing I needed. So, I continued pumping inside her repeatedly. Soon, an earthquake captured her body, leaving her trembling under me.

A minute, she just lay there, purring softly as I continued sliding inside her lazily. Then, suddenly, she let out a panicked gasp and tried to stand up, a move that was impossible thanks to my hands over her back. "Draco, what is going on? What are you doing!"

My eyebrow rose in surprise. I knew that she was deep in pleasure, but I hadn't guessed it was so deep that she had forgotten where she was, and who was delivering the massage. Still, even dubious, she had already consented to it, and I had no intention to give the control back. I grabbed her wrists and pulled her, preventing any immediate movement. "Why mom, I'm doing exactly what you want."

"Draco, you cannot do this, please stop, you are my son."

"Yes, mom," I replied enhancing my rhythm even further. "And as a dutiful son, I'm doing exactly what my mom wants."

"But this is-" she started, only to cut by a sudden moan, hard enough to rattle the glass. "This is not what I want."

Despite my best tries, a snort escaped my mouth. "Really, mom, it's not what you want," I said, tugging her arms enough to pull her chest away from the bed. "Then please explain to me, why you are in my room, naked without a protest, with the full knowledge that the previous time it happened, I pleasured you with my fingers hard enough to send to you to the land of unconsciousness. Please explain to me how you didn't want this?"

As I expected, Narcissa wasn't able to reply to my statement, though she tightened even further. I was glad to see that things were unfolding much quicker than I planned. Actually, I realized, so good that I saw no harm in pushing the process to the next step. I wrapped my arms around her torso and pulled back. Then, before she could say anything, I flipped her to a missionary position and impaled her once more, my cock forcing her tunnel to stretch. Her eyes grew in surprise, suddenly finding herself looking at me, leaving her no illusion to hide behind.

She opened her mouth to say something, but I had no need to hear her words, at least not at this moment. I pressed my lips to hers, and pushed my tongue into her mouth, arresting her words before they could leave her lips. She stiffened in shock, her body coming to a complete standstill under my intimate attention. I hadn't slowed down even for a moment, my cock sliding in and out, again and again, trying to dispel her shock. Still, I wasn't expecting success this early, which was why I was surprised when her lips started to reply my assault, slow, hesitantly, but replying nevertheless.

I didn't slow down for another ten minutes, slamming her repeatedly in the missionary position, in which she experienced another shattering climax that left her limp for a moment. A moment I sped up mercilessly, until her vitality came back amongst muffled moans. Then I pulled back. She looked surprised for a moment, feeling the absence of my lips. Our eyes met for a moment, guilt, shock, and pleasure dancing in her eyes, then she tried to avert her eyes. "Don't avoid my eyes, mother" I ordered in a deliberately husky tone.

She straightened her neck and started looking my eyes as soon as the order left my mouth, not even the slightest delay in following the order, though I could see the doubt. "Why son," she said in a trembling tone. "Why are you doing this?"

"Why, mom, asking like that, one would think that you are unwilling," I said, unable to stop a mocking taste to color my tone.

"Of course I'm," she said, trying to sound stern, but it was an exercise in vain, considering half of the words that left her mouth was drowned by her moans, removing the bite she tried to inject.

"Really, mother," I said, not letting my beat even for a second. "If you are that dissatisfied with the situation, you only need to say stop, and we will stop, and I will never touch you again."

I knew that such a statement was daring. If she managed to utter the word in a momentary daze or panic, it would throw my plan back a month at best. I had no intention to actually respect her wish of course, but that would change the dynamics quite a bit. So, when she opened her mouth, a wave of panic passed through me. I did the first thing that came to my mind, I quickened my beats, pushing my cock even deeper into her, hoping a last-minute flare of pleasure would be enough to dissuade her from her idea. Her mouth stayed open for almost a minute. A long, drawn-out minute. But in the end, the noise that left her mouth was limited to wordless moans.

"Good choice, mother," I said, and leaned for another kiss. This time, surprising me even further, her tongue was active. Not active enough to actively try to push into my mouth, not even enough to meet mine on the halfway. Still, it was enough to caress my tongue as I aggressively explored her mouth. I could feel my pleasure building up. "I'm about to cum, mother," I said, pulling back, enjoying the pure look of panic on her face before locked her lips once more. I started sprouting inside her as she trembled in throes of yet another orgasm, her walls squeezing to extract the last few errant drops. I pulled away from her lips once more, and whispered. "You are mine, mother."

She said nothing. I smiled.


	4. Chapter 4

It was finally the August the first, the wedding date for the nuptials between Fleur Delacour and William Weasley. The day Ministry of Magic would fall. The day my plan would begin.

I was standing with the Death Eater group targeting the Weasley wedding, my so-called failure in Hogwarts at the end of the school year disqualifying me from joining the Ministry Attack Force. On my hand, I held the wand I purchased from Ollivander's during the holiday, the Elder Wand safely secured in a hidden holster on my arm. Of course, I wasn't too sad about missing the opportunity to join the ministry attack. The wedding allowed me to target several key underrated players in where their response options were severely limited.

The assigned leader, Avery, signaled the beginning of the assault, and I squeezed my hold over the provided portkey. An awful tugging sensation later, I was in the of chaos. The stunners were flying out of the Death Eaters, while the wedding guests were trying to escape, limiting themselves to shields and defensive constructs. I didn't know it was because they realized Death Eaters were the new legal authority and trying to limit their law-breaking, or whether it was the stupid pacifism of the Dumbledore's gang, trying to fight a war with childish hexes while the other side spread Dark curses like candies in Halloween.

My attention was instantly grabbed by the bride, Fleur Delacour. Wrapped in a white wedding dress, illuminated by an inner fire, even during all the chaos, she looked like a beautiful spirit from the fairyland. Someone less evil might experience tender emotions against the fate that ruined her biggest moment, but I had only one thought in my mind. Ruining her under my selfish attention. And to do that, I needed two people. My first attention was to capture her husband, and using him as a leverage to push my demands on her. Then, I noticed a small, blond-haired child fading in the orchard, overlooked by everyone else. "Perfect," I murmured, disillusioned myself, and subtly switched to Elder Wand. An apparition later, I was next to her, dropping her with a stunner before she could even react. I took a hold of her arm, apparated to Malfoy Manor, and left her in one of the unused rooms, unconscious, and apparated back, ready to join the fray. Of course, I didn't have the slightest desire to harm her, because, for all I did, I wasn't a monster enough to hurt children. But her absence would be enough to give me the opening I needed.

On the edge, I could see Hermione, Ron, and a random looking guy -who I assumed Harry Potter under the effects of the Polyjuice- apparating away. I did nothing to stop them, a lot of my plans was based on them getting away without any issue. I needed someone to run around and distract Voldemort while I brought his downfall, after all. I turned my attention towards the rest of the group, switched to my support wand, canceled my invisibility, and started to attack the group, though it wasn't very noteworthy combat, the main resistance was already broken, and we were collecting the straddlers, though I was happy to note that both Fleur and her husband were amongst the stunned group. It gave me the opportunity to start molding her before she learned her sister's absence.

* * *

Gaining access to the holding cell hadn't been difficult. With the takeover, everything was in chaos, and the prisoners from the wedding were a low priority target. Voldemort already declared that he wasn't interested in killing them, believing that with Dumbledore dead and Potter missing, the resistance would fade away unless he did something really aggressive, like killing a lot of pureblood wizards without provocation. I had a feeling Snape had a particular hand behind that decision, and not because he wanted to ensure the success of Voldemort's cause, but I let it be. After all, no one was aware but the current situation helped me the most, especially with the order that the prisoners were not to be touched.

A quick imperius to a Death Eater and a forged order later, and I was responsible for the cells, just in case one of the other Death Eaters had a similar idea to use her. She was mine, and she was too precious to share with that uncouth brutes. I waited a couple hours, just to make sure nothing was going on, then imperiused the other guard, ordering him to act normal. Then, I walked to the solitary cell Fleur was being held on, and cast a concealment ward around it. It was a simple ward, one that would isolate the cell as well as making it a bit harder to detect. Of course, with the Elder Wand, it became much stronger. I wasn't a Fidelius, but it was enough to keep anything away as long as they weren't deliberately looking for Fleur's cell, and even then, it required a significant willpower to breach the concealment.

I was ready to enter after one last touch. I wanted to feed some potion to her to loosen her a bit, but I had a feeling she would reject any food or drink I presented, and I didn't want to force her to drink anything. So, I whipped out my cock and rubbed it with a lust potion, quite stronger than one I used on Narcissa. It had a bit of aftertaste, but unlike Amortentia, it didn't wary depending on the drinker's preferences. I was willing to bet that Fleur wouldn't notice it, her mind would busy with more important concerns.

With my preparations complete, I had entered the cell, and saw Fleur sitting on the only bed in the room. Considering it took just a spell to ensure it's cleanliness, the room must be intentionally dirty. Not that I had any problems, the rundown ambiance definitely add some unique tint to the incoming experience. Still, it wasn't as important as the blond woman sitting on it, dressed in a long white dress that had been pristinely white just hours ago, but now, covered with patches of dirt, with occasional torn patches around the skirt. Her hair was similarly disrupted, her earlier immaculate strands messily sprawled to her neck. But even with all, she was one of the most beautiful things I had ever lay eyes upon. I would enjoy ruining her.

She turned her gaze to me, and I could see the fire burning behind them. I reminded myself to be careful, after all, she was a veela, and her lack of wand didn't equal to not being dangerous. It only took one swipe of her transformed claw to kill someone. "Good afternoon, Miss Delacour," I said with a deliberately cheerful tone. "How do you feel in this nice weather."

She looked towards me, hatred burning behind her eyes. I could easily understand her anger, after all, Draco was the main reason for her husband's injuries, and I was one of the principal reasons her supposedly happiest day was ruined. Not that she was aware the distinction between us. The desire to burn me to cinders with Veela powers drove her forward, I could see in her eyes, sparking with anger. But, with an impressive display of willpower, she did no motion towards it. "It's Mrs. Weasley now," she said between her clenched teeth.

"I'm sorry, milady," I answered, making no attempt to hide mocking tone. "I will do no such mistake again." Angering her was a risky proposition, but I felt tempted to push it. It was oddly compelling, like poking a particularly angry feline.

"What do you want, Malfoy," she asked after a few seconds of silence.

"Wow, such anger," I said, making a show of taking a step backward. "Careful, Mrs. Weasley. You almost convinced me to abort my plan of helping you."

"I don't want any help from a pathetic boy like you," she exclaimed, the room getting a bit hotter. I felt my pants getting tight once again. After all, it was an arousing sight, a fiery veela, trapped in a cell, wrapped in a ruined wedding dress…

I shook my head, trying to focus on the moment. I wanted to ignore the insult, but being called a boy actually hurt more than anything else. Still, I didn't give any sign of discomfort. After all, I was about to teach her that I was not a boy. "Of course, Mrs. Weasley. You actually don't need my help. It has been determined that you had no role in assisting subversive elements, and you'll be let go a few hours later." Her face was light in elation, but I mercilessly snuffed it. "Your husband, on the other hand…"

As expected, her elation disappeared as quick as it appeared, along with her casual dismissal of my presence. "What about my husband?" she asked in a trembling tone, her earlier bravado completely absent.

"Tests has shown that his blood contains traces of lycanthropy, but whether the full curse took hold or not is inconclusive. And as the law dictates, he needs to be held under observation until the full moon in an undisclosed facility to make sure he doesn't fully transform."

"That's barbaric, you cannot do that," she exclaimed.

"Unfortunately, we can. Though I find it ironic that it's one of the laws sponsored by Dumbledore. Sometimes, fate is really a bitch." She really was, otherwise, how could one explain my presence in this universe. It was as merciful as throwing a hungry shark in an aquarium filled with goldfishes. I saw the despair on her face, and moved to the coup de grace. "The clincher is, however, Lestrange is in charge of prisoner logistics. A man famous for his cruelty. A man, who received a really nasty injury at Hogwarts a couple months ago. I heard he was quite enthusiastic about putting your husband into Azkaban for a month." I barely held back a laugh upon seeing the despair on her face. "And I don't need to remind you what he was famous for before a decade and half years long stay in Azkaban…"

With my last words, she was barely able to hold her tears back. I wasn't surprised that Fleur swallowed the tale without any doubt. After all, almost all the facts I listed there was correct. Even the law was there and Lestrange intended to use it. Only, Lestrange didn't have a special grudge towards William Weasley. That, and I was the one that brought the lycanthropy law to his attention.

"Why are you here," Fleur asked, unable to stop a couple of tears sliding down her cheeks. I decided I was really an evil bastard, after all, her tears made me only hornier. There was a certain appeal in such a strong-willed woman, being forced into tears. I smiled, this was going to be even better than I hoped.

"I'm here to offer you an alternative," I said with a soft tone of a devil holding a contract that would bring salvation, for a price, of course.

I could see her struggling to keep the temptation of uttering the next words. From my expression, she must have realized what I was about to ask, but the safety of her husband must have come first. "What alternative?" she asked.

"I use my pull, and ensure he is being held in a decent facility with no angry Death Eaters or errant Dementors."

The next words were so reluctant, that she must have used a prier to dislodge them from her vocal cords. "And what is the price?" I didn't even bother to utter a word, just pulled my pants down. "I cannot," she uttered. "I'm a virgin, and I can't have my wedding night without my virginity."

An elation rose inside me, and I adjusted my plans on the fly. I could easily blackmail her for it, but there was an option much more attractive, corrupting her until she willingly gave it to me. It would be much tastier. "That's really impressive, prioritizing your virginity over the wellbeing of your husband." I continued before she could utter a word. "But, I'm not without a mercy, we can adjust things so that your virginity stays intact until your wedding night, but in return, you will serve me every three days until the full moon, which is in fifteen days. So, five sessions for your husband's well-being. What do you say, Mrs. Weasley." I took a breath, and added. "And one to seal the deal of course," I said, pointing at my erect cock. "We cannot leave my little dragon like that."

The shock, anger, and sadness passed through her face, finally setting on the resignation. I walked towards her, discreetly holding my wand. I was almost sure that her will was broken, but there was a significant difference between almost and certainty. Still, I walked towards her bed, my cock dangling freely with each step. I stood in front of her sitting figure, my cock dangling at the same level with her mouth. She surrendered, leaning forward, her lips parted.

A moan escaped me as I felt her lips pushing towards. With the rush from dominating her, her blank expression did little to reduce my excitement. For today, physical surrender needed to suffice. I still had five more sessions to take her soul. She started bobbing her head in a mechanical manner, showing little skill. I was a bit surprised by her inexperience, even if she wasn't a virgin, I would expect her to be more skilled. Magical France supposed to be more liberal than Magical Britain, especially Veelas. Apparently, I managed to find the exception.

Still, I was happier with the case. After all, it meant she lacked the baseline experience to compare the actions of our sessions, leaving her to my tender attention. I changed my plans regarding her once more. Initially, I wanted to just use her until I let go of her husband, but now, my plans shifted. I wanted to own her even after defiling her completely. I wanted to make her a masterpiece.

However, her incompetence showed itself, distracting me from my thoughts. "Careful with the teeth, honey, unless you want it to last for half a day," I said, putting my hand on her hair, caressing lightly. She shuddered in revulsion at my touch, but I felt her chin forcing open a bit more, distancing her teeth from my skin. "Use some tongue too, sweetie," I added. This, she didn't follow.

I stayed fairly passive for ten minutes, the point where the lust potion started to affect her. I wasn't very hopeful about its impact, while it was a strong potion, coating my cock wasn't the best way of injecting a full dose inside her. I was carefully observing the dilation of her pupils, the indicator of the success. I managed to catch the first sign couple of minutes after the ten-minute line, with her quickening breath. The dilation came several seconds later, and I licked my lips in anticipation.

I pressed my hands on both sides of her head, and pushed my cock deeper, not too deep, but enough to jar her. She looked up, the only way she could with my cock still lodged deep in her mouth. "Well," I said, shrugging. "I wasn't expecting you to be that clumsy when sucking cock, so I decided to help you. Try not to faint." I saw her eyes grew in panic as soon as I mentioned feinting, but I didn't give her any time to gather herself. I pushed my cock into her throat without a warning, her shocked gags melody to my ears. I kept it there for a couple of seconds, then pulled back, giving her just enough time to take a shallow breath, then pushed once again.

After the first few repeats, I quickened by beats, my cock repeatedly appearing and disappearing into her throat. She was helpless, with her responses limited to gagging and wheezing. But as it contained, I noticed something else, her allure was flaring up. It wasn't enough to turn my consciousness into mush, but I realized allure was an excellent aphrodisiac, especially when the source of it had her lips wrapped around my cock, trying to breathe enough not to faint while I fucked her throat.

Even occlumency was inefficient holding back a release when one face-fucked a veela, I realized as I tried to push it back in vain. Instead, I decided to embrace the moment. I suddenly pulled back, leaving her dazed and wheezing. Then, without waiting for even the slightest response, I grabbed the bustier of her wedding dress and pulled down. A rippling sound later, her naked tits were dangling freely in the chilly prison air. Already at my limit, I started spraying her face and her tits with my seed. Dazed, she watched with slightly glassed eyes as I covered her face and tits with my spunk, so much that I suspected there was a bit of accidental magic involved.

I received another surprise while trying to understand why she barely reacted my trick with her dress. She was having an orgasm of her own! Even with the lust potion, that was impressive. Either the potion interacted with her veela heritage in an unexpected way, or she was more vulnerable to domination than I thought. "Good work, Mrs. Weasley," I said even as I pulled her wedding dress up, and mended the tear with a repair charm, her tits still covered with my seed under the fabric, staining her wedding dress. Yet another symbolic victory of sorts. I pulled a paper, scribbled and address on it with a conjured pen, and was about to push it into her dazed hand, when the inspiration struck. I pulled her dress down once more, writing the address on her stained breasts, then pulling back after one last farewell squeeze. "Here, Mrs. Weasley. This is the address you will visit tonight, 10 PM, sharp. Don't be late." She nodded, then shook her head dazedly, trying to gather her mind from the haze of pleasure.

I turned, started to walk away. But just at the door, I turned, vanquished by the temptation. "And don't forget to practice on a banana," I added. "You need to provide a better service if you want to ensure your husband's safety." With that, I turned, and left the cell, my mind is already on the next steps.


	5. Chapter 5

After leaving Fleur's cell, I spent fifteen more minutes in the ministry, setting up the necessary steps based on my agreement with Fleur, her husband's transfer, her release, and other details. It took a couple of minor favors, a few threats, and an imperius here and there to grease the wheels. Having magic was awesome, it even helped to avoid the torture called bureaucracy, if one was ruthless enough of course. Then, I left the ministry of magic.

First, I dropped by Fleur's sister cell, making sure to disguise myself in Death Eater garb, and passed over her cell, casting a sound spell that called me as Yaxley. I decided he made a good scapegoat for the whole affair, because I knew that monster actually liked children that way. Creepy monster. I might be evil, but even I had standards. After making sure Gabrielle saw me, I stunned her once more. No need to actually traumatize her with the memory of the kidnappings.

I was tempted to pay a visit to Narcissa, but I already had plans for the evening. And if Fleur loved her sister as much as I thought she was, she would drop by the address I gave as soon as she realized her sister was missing. So, I apparated there. It was a relatively small house that had been used by a part of the Branch family, when Malfoy family had a much bigger headcount. It was deserted, but thankfully, elves took care of it.

As I expected, I hadn't had to wait for long. Half an hour later, I heard a loud bang on the door, eerily similar to a bludgeoning hex colliding with the wards. I apparated to the door. I didn't even bother to check whether the wards held, instead opened the door. "Hello, Mrs. Weasley," I said, deliberately mocking. "I see you are a bit early."

Anger was flowing in waves from her, with feathers sprouting from her body. "Where is my sister, you bastard!" she shouted, turning her wand to me.

I utilized the full extent of my occlumency ability to reflect an expression of shock on my face. "What do you mean?" I asked.

My ploy must have worked, because most of the anger drained from her face, leaving shock behind. "You don't know where my sister is?" she said, with a defeated tone.

"No, but I know no children were taken from the party-" I started, then changed my tone completely. "Yaxley!" I shouted, interrupting my earlier statement. Fleur looked at me uncomprehendingly, trying to understand what I meant. "Yaxley was a part of the group, but he disappeared for a while during the attack. And it's a badly kept secret that he has some terrible habits, but he has enough pull with the ministry to keep those suppressed." The infliction I used when I used the word habit left no doubt about what I mentioned.

"No, no, no…" Fleur started shouting in panic. "Where is that bastard, I will kill him. Gaby!"

"Stop," I shouted, silencing her. "Time is the essence. You will sit here, do nothing, while I go check whether my guess is correct. If so, I will come back here, with Gabrielle with me. Understood!" In the last part, I deliberately held the Elder Wand and flared my magic, knowing it increased the impact of my presence several folds. She nodded, suddenly smaller.

The rest of my plan worked ridiculously easily. I sneaked into Yaxley's home. Luckily, he was alone in the study, busy with some documents, so he didn't notice as I sneaked behind him and smashed his head with a chair. I smashed it several times to make sure he was dead, filled a glass with his blood, and walked away, only apparating after I was reasonably away from his house. There was no need to leave magical traces when not needed.

I apparated to Gabrielle's cell, sprinkled some of Yaxley's blood over her clothes, vanished the rest of the blood. Then, I grabbed her, and apparated to the meeting place with Fleur. She turned towards the source of crack, and saw her sister in my arms. "Gaby!" she shouted. "Is she okay."

"She is just stunned," I said, and she reached her wand. "Stop, don't enervate her until you are back your home, or even better, take her directly to France."

"Why?" she asked, surprised by my vehemence.

"I just killed Yaxley," I said. "And the last thing any of us need is a child to know the link between us." I could easily see the question in her eyes, though she had the decency not to ask. I answered nevertheless. "You should care, because, a Death Eater was just killed in his home, and whole government will be looking for the responsible. Currently, no one knows your sister's presence there. Yaxley isn't stupid enough to tell anyone else that he had kidnapped someone without authorization, especially a child."

She stayed silent for almost a minute, caressing the hair of her sister. "Why did you help me?" she asked.

I was impressed, I thought she was going to ask me why I killed him. It was nice to see she wasn't a hardcore groupie of Dumbledore's forgiveness train. "I helped, because there are barriers that shouldn't be crossed. Targeting children is the most important of these rules, especially the deplorable way Yaxley planned to do." I acted like I was in deep thoughts, then added. "Go to France with your sister. We can always handle our appointment tomorrow. Be here in tomorrow at ten p.m." With that, I turned and walked inside, acting like I didn't hear her whispering her thanks.

Another step of my plan was complete.

With Fleur's visit pushed back one day, I wanted to visit one of my other targets to initiate my plans, but I didn't have time for it. Everything was balanced on the edge of the blade after the ministry takeover, even though the resistance had been destroyed almost completely. Neither Dumbledore's supporters nor ministry loyalists were able to put up a resistance more than a few hours. The order of fried chicken had effectively disbanded with the death of the Moody, and it all took the death of Scrimgeour for the Ministry to fold completely. It just took Voldemort to walk inside the building, and none of them dared to touch their wands, yet alone attack him.

With all those changes going on, I need to be around to make sure none of them were about to bite me in the ass. More importantly, I needed to make sure Yaxley's death wasn't connected to me or Delacours in any form. Last thing I wanted to lose Fleur, or more importantly my own head, in a strike of revenge. With a sigh, I apparated to the ministry, already dreading the boredom of politicking. Still, it wasn't all bad, because at the aftermath, Narcissa was there, conveniently placed for my attention. She would probably be sleeping, but it didn't matter much, I could always wake her up. After all, nothing was off limits for her precious son...

* * *

It was past midnight when I arrived back home, so naturally, I was quite surprised to see Narcissa, usually pretty careful about her sleep time, still sitting in the living room. "Hi, mom," I said. "What are you doing up in this hour?"

"I was worried about you," she answered, anger clear in her tone. "You were absent for the day, nothing but a flimsy note to say you are okay."

Normally, I would reprimand her for daring to raise her voice to me, but the worry was in her tone was palpable. It was a point a soft touch would be more beneficial. "Sorry, mom," I said even as I walked towards her. "It was a hectic day, the Ministry, Weasleys, and many other small things." Then, I wrapped my arms around her in a hug, and clamped her lips in a deep kiss. As usual, she froze momentarily, but this time, it didn't last more than a second, her tongue even meeting me in the halfway. I continued the kiss without a break, even as my hands started to wander around her body. I pulled back after a couple minutes. "I need a bath," I said.

"Okay," Narcissa said, but I was able to catch dejection in her tone.

I held back a snort. She probably assumed I was leaving her alone. I grabbed her wrist and apparated to the bathroom. Surprised by the unexpected transition, she stumbled, only my fingers, tight around her wrist, preventing her fall. A couple of quick spells later, the large bath was filled with hot water. Another spell saw that the water started bubbling, imitating a Jacuzzi. "Come on, mom," I said, even as I undressed. Narcissa seemed hesitant, which was understandable. I was pushing her to break yet another wall of intimacy, and from the expression on her face, she also realized I had no intention to draw the line here.

Still, she started undressing a few seconds later. I didn't think she had the will to reject it, considering the damp state of her underwear, clearly on display. I made a show of watching her as she stripped, and she said nothing, though her movements became more hesitant as the seconds rolled. Then, she slid into the water, trying to sit across me, but I had something more intimate in my mind. I wrapped my arms around her torso and pulled her to sit between my legs, her back resting on my chest, my cock pressing her ass. I was tempted to say screw it and push my shaft into her tight asshole, but I held myself back. I didn't want to just fuck her, I wanted to own her, body, mind, and soul, and to do that, I needed to vary my approach.

Another wave of my wand, and the water rose until it infused her hair moist enough to be washed, and I put some shampoo in my hand. Then, I started massaging her hair slowly, the bubbles covering her shoulders. "How was your day, mother?" I asked, even as I gently massaged her scalp. That started a soft discussion, though I was careful to stay away from any stressful topics such as the Ministry takeover and other developments. Meanwhile, I finished her hair, my hand sliding to her shoulders, and started massaging her. She appreciated my initiative quite a bit, if her purring was any indicator.

Already in the mood, her customary reluctance was absent when I slid my hands to her bountiful chest, continuing my massage. "It feels nice," she murmured, in a deep haze.

"Nice to hear, mother," I answered, and leaned to her neck, and started covering her skin with an endless rain of kisses. I could feel her excitement rising sharp, so I decided to quicken her journey towards the release. I slid one of my hands down, the other still busy squeezing her nipples, and found her slit. I pushed two fingers inside, her aroused tunnel accommodating them easily. Her hips started to grind my cock. Curious, I looked in the mirror, watching her euphoric expression as my fingers danced over her body, enhancing her ecstasy with each passing second. I licked my lips upon seeing the beautiful view, then leaned for a deep kiss, one she reciprocated without any hesitation, her tongue jumping ready.

It didn't take long for her to reach another climax that left her a shuddering mess, but I didn't let the massage even for a second, continuing my erotic massage. The second and the third ones soon followed the first one, leaving her flexible and happy. A state conductive to my future plans. I reached my wand and waved once, and a box appeared from the thin air, carrying a perfect, enchanted anal plug. I grabbed the box and pulled the plug on the box. "What is this, honey," Narcissa mumbled in a deep haze.

"It's a gift, my sweet mother," I answered, even as I brought the plug under water and positioned it with a good access to her hole. "Say when," I said, enjoying her confused expression. Then, without waiting for an answer, I have pushed it into her ass in one smooth motion.

The scream that echoed through the room was quite an enjoyable development, though most of it was from knowing no real harm had come to Narcissa, other than feeling a sharp pain. That was how I designed the plug, it allows to loosen up the ass, it prevents any possible health complications as it pushed through an unprepared path, and it continuously dispelled any waste. In total, it was perfectly engineered to keep her ass in appropriate conditions for anal sex.

"What are you doing, Draco?" she asked in shock. was a good time to start fucking her once more, so I pushed my cock inside her, sliding easily into her well-lubricated walls. "Why, mom," I said. "Didn't we agree that you belong to me completely. Did you believe that that wouldn't include your amazing ass."

Narcissa opened her mouth to answer, only to be aborted due to a well-placed twist of her nipples. I leaned and captured her lips once more, trying to prevent any argument, forcing her to focus on the sensations provided by being stuffed from two holes simultaneously. As I expected, her stiffness was soon lost once again, leaving her eagerly submitting under my attention. Once again, I was surprised by the stupidity of Lucius. Narcissa was a sex goddess, waiting to be unlocked by the slightest of attention, but Lucius managed to squander her talents completely for two decades. Not me, I thought as I picked up the pace of my assault. I was going to shape Narcissa into a perfect toy, eager to submit my every desire, displaying the most amazing applications of skill.

Narcissa's tongue, invading my mouth in a surprise assault that brought me back to the moment. I accepted her presence eagerly, caressing her breasts to show my approval. She was still shy to show any initiative, something I wanted to cultivate in her. While her absolute sexual deference was fun, I had no illusions that it would rapidly get boring without creativity from her part. I pressed my hand on her stomach, pressing our bodies even closer. Her hips, grinding enthusiastically in his lap was enough to push me quickly towards the climax, especially combined with the caressing warmth of the water. Her tightening around my shaft had been enough to trigger yet another spurt of seed, barely giving me enough time to pull out, dirtying the water instead.

Overwhelmed by the pleasure, Narcissa collapsed, pressing her weight, blunted by the water, to my body. I welcomed it, and for a while, we lay wordless as the water bubbled around us, massaging our body continuously. I started caressing her belly, enjoying the way she purred in appreciation.

Of course, we were just starting. I gave her a minute to catch her breath before reaching for the anal plug that I had forced into her just moments ago, and started pulling it out, earning a mirror moan of her. I didn't pull it out completely, of course, just a bit more than half, only to push it back in once again. "Draco!" she exclaimed.

"Yes, mom," I countered even as I pulled the plug back, listening to her panicked gasp.

"What are you doing-" she tried to say, only to collapse into another cry as I pushed the plug inside her once more.

"Why mom," I answered with a laugh. "I'm doing you, of course. More specifically, I'm preparing your puckered hole so I can do you in the ass as well." She stilled, blushing rapidly with my vulgar reply. Sometimes, people confused me. We just shared a merciless fuck, how could she feel mentioning it was more shameful than actually doing it, I could never understand. Nor I was going to allow. "Why mom," I said, pulling her hair harshly until her neck was bent backward. "Do you have a problem with what we just did."

"No, Draco," she whispered, but her tone painted with arousal instead of fear. A good detail, to see she enjoyed roughness as well.

"Good," I added as I used my other hand to play with her anal plug, pushing it in and out. "Then, tell me, what we just did."

"Draco?" she said, begging, though the effect was a bit distorted by the moan that followed her broken statement. "Please,"

"No, mother," I said, leaning forward to her neck, biting hard enough to leave a permanent mark. "You don't have the option. Tell me, what we just did?"

Narcissa looked indecisive, her hair still in my painful grip, her silence only broken by the occasional moans as I continue playing with her anal plug. "We … fucked…" she managed to say.

"Good mother," I said. "Now, hold your breath."

"What-" she managed to say before I pushed her head into the water, rest of her sentence mixing with the water. She tried to pull up, but with her head forced into the water with my hand, only her bottom managed to rose, presenting me with the perfect opportunity. I didn't waste any time before pushing inside her, earning a mess of bubbles instead of a cry.

I didn't keep her under the water for long. I wanted her to feel like she was drowning, not to actually drown. She rose, her hair sticking to her body as she struggled to catch her breath, all while I continued pumping inside her, pushing her closer to arousal. Then I pushed her down again…


	6. Chapter 6

I held my breath as I apparated to my target. I was doing my best to keep the noise from the apparition as low as possible, because being caught came with results I was unwilling to live through. Several of my plans depended on today's success. Thankfully, Grimmauld Place was large enough so I could be reasonably sure there wouldn't be anyone in the attic.

Almost anyone, I corrected myself a second after completing the apparition, seeing Kreacher appear a few feet ahead of me, his hand raised to blast any intruder that dared to attack the sanctity of the Black Residence. "Kreacher, it's me," I spoke in a hurry, hoping for him to realize my identity before I ended in a nasty collision with the wall.

"Young master," Kreacher said, his attitude shifting completely from an angry tiger to docile housecat. I didn't understand how stupid public could waste the potential of house elves, impressively magical, utterly loyal, yet so easy to please. But no, most magicals were happy to treat them in a way that would be approved by a Southern Slave owner, and for no reason at all. They were perfectly happy as servants, for god's sake.

"Hello, Kreacher, how are you today?" I asked, a soft smile on my face. The shock that quickly replaced by gratitude and devotion was even enough to tug my blackened heartstrings. I could see him trying to find words to express himself, but holding back due to what he deems acceptable behavior, so I continued with my words. "I have found the amulet, but I need to keep it for a while trying to discover how to destroy it, do you understand?" Having information about people's deepest secrets was totally overpowered.

"Young master wants to destroy it!" Kreacher exclaimed in happiness. "Kreacher tried to hard, but he always failed. Stupid elf," he said, punching his own head in punishment.

"Kreacher, enough!" I ordered, hoping that he would listen to it, despite my lack of magical authority over him. Luckily, he did so before alerting the other occupants in the room. "Kreacher, I need your help," I started explaining. "To be able to destroy the amulet, I need to have access to the certain items, and to find them, I need to sneak into their rooms, and if you see me, you might be obliged to stop me. So, I want you to keep away from me, can you do that?"

Just as I expected, it took almost no time for Kreacher to get my point, and to nod in approval. After all, the elf was clever enough to contribute to a scheme that killed his own master despite the magics that were supposed to be against it. "Good," I continued. "Also, I need to sneak into someone other than your current owner's room, and stay there undetected. I need you to arrange there would be no visitor to distract me." Again a nod arrived. The guy was the perfect butler, always accommodating without any pesky questions. I made a note to myself, to arrange his ownership as soon I stopped needing an insider in the Grimmauld Place. Kreacher was the perfect ally I needed, utterly loyal, deceptively smart, and unencumbered by any pesky morals.

It was the late night, and all occupants were supposed to be asleep. But still, I cast a few spells around myself, disillusionment, sound dampening, and a few others to support my concealment. Then I whispered the spell to reveal the location of the humans in the building, highlighting the position of three occupants of the house. My luck rang true, and the first room I checked belonged to Harry Potter. I cast an underpowered stunning spell to his motionless form, wanting to make sure I was able to find the items that were supposed to be here. Then, I pointed to his trunk and whispered. "Accio Marauder's Map, Accio Invisibility Cloak."

Both items flew towards me, leaving me smiling in satisfaction. I could sense a subtle but potent feeling in the cloak, one that sent chills through my body. After a couple of diagnostic spells, I have dispelled the tracking spells over it, and pulled another invisibility cloak from my pocket. Several spells from the Elder Wand made sure it looked the same from a physical perspective, and a few more spells created a duplicate for the map, just giving the illusion of working, of course. I made sure to pick several stray hairs just in case they came useful, and left the room.

A smile was on my face as I left the room, one of the Hollows, the Invisibility Cloak over me. I hoped that the fact that I actually stole it would help to gain its allegiance, which was contextually linked to the invisibility. It made sense, considering disarming worked with the Elder Wand. For such deadly artifacts, they were definitely fickle.

Then, I continued towards the second target, only to find a sleeping Ron Weasley, with a copious amount of droll. I barely held back a facepalm. The guy was in the same house with his girlfriend after a mortal danger, facing an unclear future, and chose to sleep in a different room instead of leveraging the perfect moment to get into her pants. "Idiot," I murmured. He really deserved losing her. I stole a bunch of hairs, then, I moved to the third occupied room, my heart beating with excitement.

I carefully pushed the door open, and saw the sleeping figure of Hermione Granger, illuminated by moonlight. Even wearing unflattering sleepwear, her impressive figure showed beautifully, her pretty face peeking through her messy hair. I licked my lips in anticipation, suppressing a spark of arousal. As much as I was tempted to relieve myself with a surprise assault, there was no fun in that. She was a strong, willful girl, and I wanted to take that down piece by piece, forcing her to actually chose her road to descent.

Instead, I went through her personal items. After careful consideration, I have covered several of her items that weren't likely to be shared, like her hairbrush, and her feminine products, with several potions and oils, as well as a few subtle arousal-inducing spells. None of the additions I had made was particularly strong, but some of them would increase her arousal in a way that couldn't be reduced by masturbation, while a couple of them, enhanced by the hairs I just picked, would sharply decrease the lust she felt towards Weasley and Potter. The last thing I needed was to train her, only to be snatched by those idiots, after all.

Then, I left the room before the temptation had become too much for me to bear. Then, I walked back to the attic, and apparated out, going back to my room to continue my sleep. I wanted to be in the top form for Fleur's visit.

* * *

"Welcome to my humble abode, Mrs. Weasley," I said with a cheerful voice towards the alluring beauty that stood in front of me. She was beautiful despite the ugly, conservative clothing she wore, a high-necked shirt and a thick robe, a pair of thick trousers visible around the ankles. Her face contorted in anger, but she held back a retort. I had no doubt she wouldn't try to hold it back, but I seemed to earn a bit of reprieve after the debacle with her sister.

She stood ahead of me, with her hands wringing the hem of her robes as the only outward reflection of her nervousness. For a minute, she stood silent. "Why are you resorting to blackmail. Can't we just stop this?" she asked a trembling tone barely above a whisper.

"Come on, Mrs. Weasley," I said. "Let's keep our terminology straight. Blackmail requires me actively threatening you with an action." For example, the next step of my plan included a copious amount of it through the contents of the camera that was currently recording, to be used in case my first approach failed. "What we are doing is just a transaction. You want a certain service to be conducted, I proposed I price, and we concluded a deal. Let's not cheapen it with such accusatory terminology."

The spark of anger returned to her face. I was glad to see the desire to fight bright in her eyes, it would make only tastier when I broke her to my tastes. "Of course," she said between her clenched teeth.

"Good, then why don't you have some refreshment before we start. You are going to need it." She looked like she was about to reject, so I added. "I insist."

A resigned expression appeared on her face and she walked towards the small cocktail table with the refreshments on, an action she would never do without the debacle with her sister. Still, I could see her discreetly drawing her wand and testing the food. A good idea, I approved, but not paranoid enough. I made sure to keep everything on the table clean, this time dosing both my lips and my cock, not to mention a small capsule in my mouth, filled with lust potion. "Thank you," she mumbled as she nibbled on some of the lighter side dishes, just enough to be not to be completely rude. Then, she left the table, and sat next to me.

I chuckled at her limited act of defiance, then patted my lap, wordlessly calling her towards me. She continued to sit, then I quirked my eyebrow. She looked hesitant, so I patted my lap once more. This time, she stood up, and walked towards me in hesitant steps. But then, she just stood, showing no intention of sitting. So, I grabbed her arm and pulled her onto my lap, directly onto my erection.

Her mouth opened in protest, an opportunity I would loathe to miss. So, I leaned and captured her lips in an aggressive embrace. I could feel her freezing in shock, not that it created any kind of impediment for me. I continued my kiss until she tried to pull back, and only then I placed my hand on her neck, keeping her in place. She started struggling, and I pushed the capsule between my teeth, breaking it through the pressure. Then, I pushed my tongue, covered with the potion from the capsule, into her mouth. Her tongue wrapped around mine, trying to push back. It didn't work as she hoped, instead mixing the potion with her saliva throughly.

I allowed her to pull back after making sure the potion was already in her system. "What the hell was that," Fleur exclaimed.

"Well, Mrs. Weasley. You were being a bit slow, so I decided to help you to get in the mood. But if you are enthusiastic about the next step, I'm happy to accommodate." I didn't wait for her response to reaching my zipper. My hand sneaked under her leg, and a tug later, my cock hung out, pressing her crotch, though impact reduced due to thick clothing she wore. She jerked away like she was burnt, though I was satisfied to see her gaze lingering over my cock, especially since the potion was yet to take its effect. "You can go for refreshments again if you are not comfortable starting right away," I said.

Of course, I had more important reasons than altruism in giving her time to cool herself. First, any drink she had would allow most of the potion to seep into her bloodstream. More importantly, it would give the potion enough time to affect her. I intentionally kept my cock out of my pants as she sampled several food and drinks. It was subject to several fleeting glances from her, though I was happy to notice the duration of those gazes lengthened with every passing minute.

"Are you ready to start, or should I come there to assist you?" I asked, earning another deep blush coupled with an angry glare. Nevertheless, she walked towards me until she was just a foot away from me, then she slowly lowered herself to her knees. If I was a virgin, the angry glare she sent to me -covered by a layer of arousal triggered by the generous application of chemicals- would be enough to trigger a premature release for me. Unluckily for her, I wasn't one, so she had a long job ahead of her.

Her gaze was lowered after one last piercing gaze trying to pin me on the wall. I could see her breaths becoming shallower despite her best efforts to keep it even, or failing that, hidden. For a moment, a melancholy hit her, and she looked like she was about to beg for freedom, but I moved my hand, a subtle reminder about my willingness to take the lead if she dallied much longer. Resignation popped back to her face, and she leaned forward.

A gasp escaped my mouth as soon as her lips touched my shaft. The feeling of her lips was a touch hotter than normal, a biological factor assisted by her unique Veela heritage. She slid her head down until barely a third of my cock was inside her mouth, then she pulled back, only to push down a moment later. Her movements were mechanical, lacking a spirit of arousal. I was tempted to grab her head in an iron grip, and fuck her throat until it was too sore to eat. But I held back my hand. I was curious about the effects of the latest potion. Technically, even the three potions I had used on her shouldn't have enough effect to shift her attitude from frigid to arousal, even accounting for the vulnerability of her Veela Heritage. Of course, things were different if I managed to trigger a bit of arousal in her potionless state. Given a fertile bed to grow, the potions' effectiveness would be much higher.

A few minutes had been enough to show my hope was not in vain. Her movements soon lost their mechanic characteristics as her movements quickened just a bit. She started to go deeper, not enough to truly satisfy me, but enough make me hopeful about the rest of the night. Soon, I could hear her purring in pleasure, low enough to be barely heard, but there nevertheless.

I put my hand on her head. She stiffened for a moment, but I made sure to not to put any pressure on it, and she returned to her task while I caressed her hair. She stiffened once again when I slid my hand to her cheek, but this time, the duration of it was much shorter. And when I was in her neck, the pause was almost unnoticeable. She must have realized my intention of slowly escalating, because she suddenly quickened, pushing deep enough to devour half of my cock. It was unfortunate for her that I took a potion that would delay my orgasm significantly while not reducing the pleasure I received from her attention. She had a long task ahead of her.

Much to my surprise, she suddenly stood up and removed her robe before returning to the task at hand, all while avoiding any eye contact. The appearance of the high-necked blouse and loose trousers was a bit disheartening, they were something that would be more appropriate for a grandmother with an excess amount of grandchildren, not on a bombshell like Fleur. Still, I made sure not to comment on it, busying myself with gently caressing her neck.

After around quarter of an hour, she pulled back once more, the first sign of frustration and exhaustion on her face. She looked at me, the question clear in her expression. "Come on, honey," I said. "Your mouth is heavenly, but it's almost impossible to be properly aroused with the ugly clothing you are wearing. You might consider getting rid of them if you don't want to spend rest of the night here."

She looked at me, frustration and anger mixed on her face in equal amounts, then she spoke, her tone hesitant. "But I didn't bring any other clothes."

I didn't know what she expected me to do, but whatever it was, I wasn't inclined to give. "Tough luck, you needed to think that before your arrival. It seems to me that you need to make due with whatever is on you."

She seemed that she wasn't willing to listen to my advice, so her lips closed around my shaft once more as she returned her task, only to pull back again less than five minutes later. Still on her knees, she grabbed the edge of her blouse and pulled it off in one smooth motion, revealing a plain beige bra underneath, a dreadful piece of clothing that managed to detract even from Fleur's limitless beauty. Still, it was better than nothing, I noticed as she leaned forward once more, displaying a nicely framed cleavage.

I placed my hand back to her neck once again. This time, it evoked no reaction, signifying it was well past the time to escalate the situation once more. My hand slid down, comfortably resting on her delicate shoulder. Still, she was neutral to my movements until I started messing with one of her bra straps. Her hand moved up in an attempt to push it back, but I grabbed her wrist with my other hand, squeezing hard enough to leave a faint mark, while I slid the strap down. The fact that I was taking slow didn't mean I was willing to roll over for her pushbacks, and she should have learned that too if she was as smart as I thought she was. I had more direct ways to teach that lesson if she proved incapable of learning from simple hints.

Still, despite all the temptation, I held my hand back from plunging in the confines of her bra and mauling her delectable tits. Instead, I made sure to stand still as she continued to apply an increasingly heated blowjob. She wasn't aroused enough to forget everything, but I would feel safe to bet I wasn't the only one that was deriving satisfaction from the ongoing festivities.

I could feel myself getting nearer to release despite the potion I have ingested. I could have allowed her to continue until I filled her mouth with my seed. But I wanted to see more effort from her side. So, I suddenly raised my hand, and she pulled away. "That's enough for tonight, Mrs. Weasley."

"But you haven't climaxed yet," she said. I was happy to hear a tinge of disappointment in her tone. Almost invisible, but still there.

"Yes, Mrs. Weasley, I didn't, which is a failure on your part. Which is why we will be repeating this tomorrow." Her mouth opened in protest, but I held back her argument with a raised hand. "I distinctly remember telling you that you needed to provide a better service if you want to achieve safety of your husband, Mrs. Weasley." An expression of guilt, mixed with fear, passed over her eyes at the mention of her husband, and I continued. "And a successful service starts in presentation, which was objectively horrible. I wonder where did you find those clothes, maybe Molly Weasley." A spark of anger passed over her face at the mention of Weasley Matriarch, not surprising considering their strained relationship, strained even further with the detainment of William Weasley.

"Anyway," I continued, pulling her attention back to moment. "As I said, you will be here again tomorrow at 9 P.M., and I'm hoping to see progress. Otherwise, I have no choice but revise our agreement. Understood?"

"Yes," she said, but I could see tears gathering on the edge of her eyes. It must have been humiliating, to be dismissed as a failure after she suffered all that shame. She said nothing else as she pulled her clothes back on and walked out, apparating as soon as she took a step out of the door. I smiled with the satisfaction of another well-executed step in my grand plan.

* * *

 **Notes: Hi all, here is yet another installment. Hope everyone enjoyed it.**

 **Also, I established my P/atreon account, but only for original stories, under the name of Dirk Grey. Please check if you are interested in my original work.**


	7. Chapter 7

While stopping Fleur's service midway was a part of the plan, it did nothing for my aching hardness, its pressure too heavy to allow me to go out and find someone else. Thankfully, I had a convenient access to a beautiful woman who was more than willing to serve that particular need. With that in mind, I apparated directly to Narcissa's room.

Narcissa was lying on her bed when I appeared. Startled by the noise, She jumped up in panic, reaching for her wand. But she was not fast enough, allowing me to grab her wrist, preventing her fingers to touch her wand. "Hello, mother," I whispered into her ear, my cock, erect and still out of my pants, pressing to her leg.

I could feel the tension immediately draining from her body, and she opened her mouth, but I wasn't in a mood to listen to her. I pushed her into the bed face down. I only spent a second observing the beauty, wrapped in a sexy nightwear, before I lifted her nightie and pulled down her panties, my eyes immediately locking on her puckered hole. A hungry smile appeared on my face as I noticed the anal plug I had placed on her was still in its place. "Good girl," I whispered even as I pulled it off.

She gasped as the pressure from the plug disappeared, one that tinged with a tone of disappointment. Not that she had any reason to worry. I pushed my hips forward, replacing the plug with my girth without a word of warning.

A shocked cry left her mouth, but her virgin asshole provided little resistance to my intrusion, already stretched sufficiently by my anal plug. Her muscles squeezed my cock in a way that neutralized the effect of the delaying potion, though most of the work was already done by the intensive attention of Fleur. Still, that meant she had quite a long way to trigger my release. I started rocking my hips with a slow, but consistent rhythm, not wanting to damage her even if the magic could fix her relatively easily. There was no need to be an asshole.

I saw her mouth opening like she was about to say something, only to close back without uttering a sound other than a deep moan. The blush that covered her face suggested that it was her sense of propriety and shame that prevented the words from leaving her mouth. Feelings that I was doing my best to erase completely. I leaned forward towards her ear, a move that pushed my cock even deeper inside her as a welcome side effect. "What were you about to say, mother?"

"No-nothing, my son," she stammered in a way even the stupidest person wouldn't miss the fact that it was a lie.

I spent a second, enjoying the way my cock flared by being called son by the woman that was busy taking the entirety of my cock into her asshole. I put my hand on her ass for a brief, soft caress, followed by a hard spank, causing her rectal muscles to contract deliciously. "Come on, mother. You can tell me the truth, hadn't we well past the feeling of shame."

"I don't-" she started murmuring, but a hard glance from me was enough to dissuade further denial. "Go faster, please," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. Still, it was enough to spark my arousal to new heights despite its low tone. I pulled back enough that only the head was barely inside her, then waited until a frustrated growl left her lips. Without a warning, I pushed back, earning a cry of pleasure, loud enough to hurt my ears.

Of course, hearing her passion-filled cry made me go even faster, and soon, I was filling her bowels with a generous spurt of my seed. I pulled out of her, and she collapsed with a loud grunt, obviously spent by our short tryst. Normally, I wouldn't care about it and plunge inside her as soon as I was erect once more, but this time, two things stopped me. She was already strained enough by carrying a self-adjusting anal plug inside her. But more importantly, I had another date with Fleur, and I didn't want to tire myself before it. I had some interesting plans for her next visit…

* * *

"Welcome, Mrs. Weasley," I said, my eyes firmly on the beautiful blond in front of me, who was finally wearing clothing that paid the appropriate respect to her amazing body, a mini pencil skirt that focused the bounciness of her butt while ending in the middle of her thighs, and a crop top that nicely dipped in the middle to reveal a cleavage, while giving no hints about what kind of underwear she wore. I hoped it was better than those white, bland set she wore the last time.

"Thanks," she murmured, unable to bring herself to say anything more, yet not wanting to stay silent. I could see the anger in her gaze as usual, but a sliver of arousal, bold enough to be caught by my fledging legimency ability was quite a surprise. It was quite an unexpected boon.

I smiled graciously and pointed at the table, as usual, filled with a variety of refreshments. She walked towards it, her wand surreptitiously drawn. I was amused to notice her efforts of casting a wide variety of detection charm, a rigorous display of attention even compared to last time. She was rightfully suspecting foul-play, but every time she received a negative result in her detection charms, her frustration increased. It didn't take a genius to realize she was hoping to find something to explain her arousal toward me. There was, of course, but the important fact was that she was still blissfully unaware of it.

As she was busying herself, I decided to make myself more comfortable. I removed my robe, revealing a baggy short an a casual cotton t-shirt underneath, a huge contrast to the way she dressed, a small detail to further highlight the power disparity in the situation. I waited for her to finish sampling the food while absentmindedly playing with the capsule in my mouth, filled with a potion, less powerful than the previous one. I wanted to slowly wean her off from the chemical additions as her body learned the proper reactions, though her arousal at the beginning of the visit signified that even the current dose might be a bit excessive.

After completing her rigorous detection process, she walked towards me, but not before filling a small glass with wine, one of the exquisite vintages from the Malfoy cellars. It was nice to see her distaste of the situation was overcome by her love towards the wine. It was yet another breach on her defenses, one I could leverage in my own leisure. Weasleys were poor enough to prevent her access to the nicer end of casual pleasures. I patted the seat next to me, inviting her to close quarters. I was happy to see that she didn't hesitate before sitting down. "So," I started. "How are you on this nice evening."

"I'm well enough-," she murmured, cutting her sentence half-way, but even unsaid, the word blackmail echoed between the walls of our heads. I paid no heed to that, and let my gaze to fall down on her shapely legs. One of her hands reached and tugged her skirt in reflex in an ineffective move to cover more of her pale, shining skin, but she had no luck, the skirt was tight enough not to have any give. I raised my gaze, quirking my eyebrow in question. Understanding dawned into her and she pulled her hand away from her skirt, although reluctantly.

I smiled in appreciation, then leaned towards her ear, placing my hand on her leg. "Good girl," I whispered, watching as a deep blush spread to her skin. I leaned forward, enjoying the way she trembled as my lips drove closer to her neck. I moved upwards until I reached the edge of her cheek, then pulled back without any warning. The sudden flash of frustration on her face was quite tasty, showing just how far I had managed to come in short few days. I looked at her eyes, a wide smile on my lips, and I patted my lap. "Sit," I ordered. As I expected, anger flashed in her eyes as she prepared to let out a frustrated growl, but I was ready. I pressed my finger on her lips, and repeated my order, deliberately angrier to make sure she remembered the state of power balance between us.

She nodded, though I could easily detect the frustration burning in her eyes, though it only made me hornier. She stood up and took a few reluctant steps until she was standing in front of me. I could have grabbed her waist and pulled her down like she was clearly expecting, but I made no such motion. I wanted her to sit down in her own power, yet another dimension to be surrendered by her own will. A couple seconds of wait later, she realized my pull was not oncoming, so she lowered herself, her legs shaking significantly. I enjoyed the frustration on her face, as much as I enjoyed the lack of fear. It was clear that after several encounters where I haven't tried to push her, she was feeling relatively safe. A horrible assumption, of course, but she wouldn't realize her mistake for a few sessions yet.

Then, I felt the weight of her shapely ass pressing around my shaft, shifting my attention back to the moment. I watched, both amused and aroused, as she continued squirming in order to find a position that wasn't directly controlled by my shaft, but only succeeding in making my cock even harder. I let her continue her pointless task for almost a minute, then, without a warning, grabbed her hair, twisting her head for a kiss, breaking the potion filled pill just before our lips connected.

Caught flatfooted, she failed to mount any resistance for several seconds, allowing my tongue to wreak havoc in her mouth. Her saliva was already infused with the majority of the potion before she realized what happened, and a careless swallow sent all of it to her stomach, where it started mixing with her blood, making her attempts of pushing my tongue back completely useless.

It didn't take for the early effects of the potion to become apparent. The defensive actions of her tongue had dwindled in strength. There was little reaction when I put one of my hands on her smooth legs, and no reaction the other landed on her belly. I started rubbing both, earning a surprised moan from her lips, surprising me as much as it surprised her. I wasn't expecting such a reaction in the first half of my plan, not that I was unsatisfied with it.

Fleur's attitude, not surprisingly, was the complete opposite of mine. She violently pulled back from the kiss, an expression of shock etched on her face. She tried to stand up, but I had no intention of allowing such an action. My hand on her stomach moved to her back, pinning her immobile much to her consternation. She opened her mouth, but I had no intention of giving her a bearing of the situation, so I locked her words with another kiss, my arm steadfast as she struggled to get away.

She continued struggling, but her efforts failed. I squeezed her leg, hard enough to leave a mark, reminding her of the exact power balance of the situation. Her struggles dwindled, leaving my hands free to explore her body. I started from her naked belly, her skin soft as a dream. Even better, I could feel her muscles trembling softly with a mixture of panic and arousal. Which was the stronger one, I wasn't sure, but if I were to bet, I would go with the arousal. The movement of her lips was too steamy to be otherwise, not to mention her instinctual purring.

I leaned back, forcing a separation, only for her to lean forward and catch my lips once again. Success, I thought, enjoying the fact that she as the initiator this time, her tongue probing my mouth proactively. I even let her dominate the kiss for a minute before assaulting back. I slid my hands under her blouse, mauling her tits, her flimsy feeling bra doing little to prevent the feeling.

Minutes later, I forced another separation, this time a finger on her lips to prevent a relapse. It was enough foreplay before the main event. "It's time for the finish your job, sweetcheeks," I said, watching amusedly as the primal reflection of arousal and desire slowly turning into horror as the haze in her mind dissipated. I was aware that I could have made her give me head without forcing her to realization, and I could even convince her to have sex, but that didn't fit with my long-term objective. I wanted her to surrender every gate with full realization of what she was doing.

She stood up, raised her hand to fix her blouse which was bunched around her upper chest during my groping, revealing her breasts, covered with a lacy white bra. It was still very substantial, but definitely much more presentable than the horror she wore the last night. "Keep it like that, you look much sexier that way," I said. She was, especially with her bruised lips and mussed up hair. I wouldn't lie, I was very tempted to push her down and fuck her until she fainted, only to continue when she woke up, hating the fact that I needed to play the long game.

After a brief hesitation, she followed my direction, and her arms fell to her sides once more. I sat on the couch, my legs together, waiting for her attention. She fell to her knees and hooked her fingers to my short, trembling in hesitation, but still pulled without losing time. My shaft, already full sized for a while, jumped to her attention immediately. She watched it, frozen. "Come on," I said. "It's not going to suck itself. You need to start before the effects of your lovely attention earlier fades away."

She flinched with the reminder of her earlier loss of control, but her hand still wrapped around the base of my shaft and started massaging. For a while, she continued her massage with a stony face, but then, her decisiveness started to melt, leaving a growing layer of arousal behind.

"What are you waiting for," I said. "Gobble away."

She looked at me angrily, in a manner that was supposed to intimidate me, but it only made my arousal heavier. "Bastard," she murmured, and my smile widened. Her anger didn't last long, replaced with a blush since it was very hard to be intimidating while obediently giving a hand job. She avoided my eyes as she parted her lips, covering the head of my shaft with warmth. I moaned, but I wasn't sure which was more pleasurable. The attention of her lips, or the speed she folded under my gaze. An academic point at best, murmured to myself as her mouth struggled around my girth.

I put my hand on her cheek, caressing with my thumb, and she quickened. Trying to make sure she got away from me earlier, no doubt, but that didn't change the fact that it was enhancing my pleasure. I dragged my hand down, dallying a bit on her neck before landing on her shoulder, this time, she gave no reaction. That wouldn't do, I thought as I reached for my wand. The fact that she hadn't shown any reaction to my lingering touch was a good thing, showing she was getting familiar with my uninvited touch.

Of course, that hadn't meant I wasn't going to push more. If she was used to the current boundaries, there was always the opportunity to create more. I reached for my wand, and a quick flare of magic later, her blouse and skirt disappeared, leaving her clad in her underwear. She tried to pull back, but my hand ready to keep her in place. I pushed her head down, forcing her to swallow the entire length of my shaft, her gagging music to my ears. "Look at me," I ordered, and her eyes rose up, locking with my gaze. "Good, keep it like that," I added and started impaling her mouth repeatedly as she managed to keep our eyes connected. The helpless arousal in her eyes was too much for me. With a shudder, I started to release into her mouth. "Keep all in," I ordered. "There is a punishment if you spill even one drop."

A task she would fail, I knew even as I gave the order, but I wasn't expecting her to put a real effort on it, a fact I was pleasantly surprised about. But, despite her enthusiasm, a sizable drop managed to escape her attention. She looked at me with begging eyes. "Pity," I said. "And you were enthusiastic about it."

"Mercy," she said. Well, gurgled, considering her mouth was filled with my cum.

"I would have, but how else you would learn," I said with as much as seriousness as I could muster. "But," I added, seeing her expression fall. "Impress with the way you swallow my cum, and I might reduce your punishment."

I expected the sudden brightening her expression showed. I had assumed that even convincing her to swallow would have been a huge challenge, and she was ready to give a show, just for a vague promise of reducing her faux punishment. She opened her mouth, playing my cum, the disgust I was expecting to see surprisingly missing. For a moment, I was struck with a desire to summon Narcissa and force them to play together. It was unfortunate that neither woman was ready for such a thing. "Bravo," I said as Fleur finished her impromptu show, leaving her with a pretty blush. "It was an amazing display, honey. You definitely earned a reduction in your punishment. Of course, there will be still a punishment," I added after a small break. "I will send you some clothes via owl for the next session. Wear them, and only them." I looked her directly in the eye. "Understood?"

She nodded but avoided my gaze, no words leaving her mouth. I put my finger under her chin, forcing her to raise her head until our eyes met. "Understood?" I repeated.

"Yes," she mumbled, almost incomprehensible. I quirked my eyebrow, and she repeated, this time louder.

"Good, you can go now, and see you the day after tomorrow."

"But, we were supposed to once every three days," she said.

"Yes, but you are forgetting your failure," I said, and a different expression appeared on her face. It was enjoyable to watch her face transform in indignation, taking the fact that she failed to bring me to climax worse than everything else. She really was a treasure. I was so glad that I managed to get my hands on her before she was sullied by the touch of that ridiculous man.

I watched silently as she pulled her robe on, surprising me with a small dance as her beautiful body disappeared under the cover instead of just redressing mechanically. Then, she disappeared, leaving me busy with my next plan. The night was still young, and I was still horny. Maybe I should pay another visit to a certain bushy-haired bookworm?

* * *

 **Author notes: The story thickens. I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter.**

 **For the ones that are interested, I have also started a Wattpad page for my original stories. The first one is already up. An Unusual Revenge, by Dirk Grey. To find it, you can paste this number after the wattpad/ as well:** **581024444.**

 **Additionally, you can visit my P/atreon page, Dark Erotica, to get early access to my original writing and vote on what I'll work on next.**


	8. Chapter 8

I apparated to the Grimmauld place, and even before my feet touched the ground, I heard a small pop, and Kreacher appeared before me. "Young master," he said with a calm tone. "How can I help you?"

"Hello Kreacher, how have you been?" I asked.

His eyes watered a little as he answered. "I'm well, young master, thank you." I could easily see the reason, from my knowledge, Regulus was the only 'respectable' wizard that showed any kind of kindness. Seeing me, a pureblood heir of good standing, showing the same while trying to finish Regulus' mission, must have been emotional for him.

"I need your help, Kreacher," I said. "I need to visit the library, but there is no need for your master and his redheaded friend to get disturbed by my unexpected visit, so it's better if they slept uninterrupted." Kreacher nodded, and disappeared, leaving me once again surprised by the stupidity of the most magical families. House elves were clever and vicious critters, and more than willing to act against their master, given half the opportunity. Like now, where Kreacher easily took part in the ridiculous play that I was just a house guest.

I wrapped myself with the invisibility cloak before I walked down from the attic, towards the library. While I wanted to visit Hermione, I also needed to search the library for some esoteric books. Books I had only learned about due to some obscure references in the Malfoy library. One could never have enough spells, potions, and other assorted means to combat and influence people who might think themselves worthy of directing my life.

With that in mind, I sneaked into the library, only to hear a voice that was suspiciously like a moan. I walked towards the source, my wand already in hand, stirrings of the anger in my heart. I had a pretty good guess about whom that voice belonged to, and there was nothing good in reserve against someone who dared to touch what I claimed for me. Their lack of knowledge was irrelevant.

Then, I took a turn, only to meet with a very pleasant view that changed my attitude completely. Apparently, I was only half-right. Hermione was alone, hidden in a forgotten corner of the library, but her hands were busy massaging her tits instead of holding books, her chest naked, her shirt parted invitingly. I smirked, my earlier anger forgotten. In front of me lied the evidence that my spells were holding strong. The frustration was clear on her face even as one of her hands sneaked under her skirt, rubbing herself to reach an orgasm that was resisting the invitation, the achievement of the first spell I had laid on her. And the fact that she was alone despite the burning desire easily read in her face showed that the spell that keeps her away from Potter and Weasley was working equally perfectly. Otherwise, why would she be there, trying to rub herself to oblivion despite sleeping under the same roof with her boyfriend?

For a while, I just watched, my own hand around my cock to enhance the pleasure, as she pulled down her bra, revealing her impressive mounds to my attention. One of her hands hungrily attacked them, pushing deep into her flesh in a hope to bring a climax that wasn't coming. The efforts of her other hands, torturing her clit with a frantic massage didn't change the equilibrium she found herself in as well.

I decided to be a gentleman. First, I cast a low-powered confundus on her, one that would convince her that she was in a dream, as well as slowing her response time. Normally, she was too strong-willed and smart to for it to take control, even from the elder wand. But luckily for me, she was far from her best condition at the moment, driven by a tasty mixture of confusion and arousal. The second spell targeted the environment, putting an illusion over and converting the scenery to Hogwarts library, along with a hazy visual filter that would make the effect more dreamy. Then, I transformed my clothes into Slytherin clothes, complete with the Headboy badge.

I removed the cloak walked to her. "What is going on there, prefect Granger," I bellowed.

She jumped in panic, which caused her breasts to jiggle attractively. "What," she managed to mumble, unable to process the situation with the unmet arousal drowning her thoughts.

"I should be the one asking the question, Miss Granger. One of the best students of the school, shamelessly playing with herself in a place every first year could drop by, disgraceful."

"But…" she started, then unable to come with something to say as she looked around in shock, like a dove captivated by the headlamps of the oncoming car. "It's not what it looks like," she murmured in the end as she tried to fix her clothing, an effort that failed utterly as confundus took a hold. Combined with the rush of adrenaline, it was enough to destroy her motor control, her fingers fumbling drunkenly.

"Really," I said. "That's your story huh." She nodded, and I continued talking, all while walking closer to her. "Maybe we should ask professor Dumbledore," I said even as I put my hand on her cheek, enjoying the way she trembled helplessly under my touch. "No," I added after second. "Professor Dumbledore is far too busy for such a minor thing." She relaxed until I brought my hand down to her neck, gently caressing. "Maybe Professor McGonagall."

The fear on her face was palpable. "No, please not Professor McGonagall."

I smiled. "You are right, she is more likely to have a heart attack in this case. Professor Snape is the best option." This time, her fear was almost a physical entity. I leaned to whisper softly. "What do you think, Miss Granger, do you want to stand there and listen as I explain Snape how I caught you in the library, your tits dangling like tasty treats, begging for lips to treat them like a tasty ice-cream, on display for the first taker." I could feel her trembling under my touch, arousal rising quickly to catch up with her fear. "Or," I whispered, this time my lips touching her ears. "We can come up with a punishment to handle it between ourselves." My hands, sliding down to her breasts, massaging her soft flesh left no doubt about what I was talking about.

She nodded, which was all the consent I needed. I pressed her shoulders, forcing her to sit down. "Keep your beautiful ass connected to that chair," I ordered, only to get another shaky nod in return. "Good girl," I said, even as my hands slid towards her chest, and started massaging her breasts over her clothes.

"What are you doing," she managed to ask a few seconds later, each word interrupted by deep moans.

"If you got a problem," I said, twisting her nipples to extract a yelp. "We can always go to Snape, what do you think?"

"No," she exclaimed in panic, trying to jump in panic, which was aborted since I was keeping my hold on her nipples.

"Good girl," I approved, my touch once more soft. She whimpered helplessly, but still, the arousal was present in her tone. I massaged her body for a while, until I could feel her relaxing under my touch, knowing that pushing her too far too fast would only backfire.

Surprisingly, it took less than a minute for her tense whimpers to get replaced with a satisfied, low-key purring, indicating that my dream ploy was wildly successful. Of course, that just gave me the opportunity to push farther than I had initially planned. "It's a disgrace, leaving your breast naked for all to see, we need to cover them," I said before covering them completely. But considering I was using my hands as a makeshift bra, it was doubtful just how effective it had been in terms of my stated aim. I let my fingers sank into her breasts, treating them as the most amazing stress-balls I had the pleasure to touch.

It was there where my plan almost hit a snag. In her backed up state, the stimulation from my touch proved too much for her magically enforced the state of arousal, and she started shaking in the chair she was sitting, her eyes showing white. Of course, I had no intention of leaving her alone that cheaply, definitely not after she managed to arouse my interest in such a spectacular manner. I kept one of my hands on her breasts, molesting her flesh, though careful not to leave any mark, and the other sneaked under her skirt, a move she made no attempt to prevent.

I felt her burning arousal around my fingers, combined with a dash of wetness to enhance it even further, her mouth perpetually open to let out her cries of pleasure. How I longed to feast on those lips before pushing my cock, breaking her under a rush of pleasure, but unfortunately, such aggressive moves risked to break the illusion I had managed to establish.

Still, nothing prevented me from leaning forward until my lips pressed her neck, the soft suction I delivered further enhancing her pleasure. Soon, she shuddered for the second time, this time shouting my name. At that point, I was unable to resist the temptation. I placed a soft, lingering kiss on her lips. Marvelous, I thought even as I stunned her with a low-powered stunner, then put her head carefully on the table in a sleep pose. I didn't bother about fixing the state of her clothes. After all, they were already messy when I arrived. Then, I put her hand under her panties, canceled the spells on the environment that I used to make it look like Hogwarts before starting to browse the shelves for the useful books.

The book hunt was much more fun, considering I had an eye candy to observe whenever I got bored.

* * *

Tired after my adventure, I went directly to the bed, and spent the morning focused on my magical studies. My magical abilities were increasing at an impressive speed, maybe due to the effect of the two disconnected perspectives, maybe due to the elder wand, but nevertheless, I managed to learn a lot of arcane magics from Malfoy and Black library, getting them right after a couple of tries, despite most of them requiring months of training for a normal wizard. Curses and hexes of untold destructive potential flowed from my wand unrestricted, all while barely draining my power. Still, I wasn't sure I could fight against Voldemort. At least in a fair fight, which I had no intention of experiencing.

With most of my plans in a standby, the day after passed the same, only with a brief break where I sent tonight's attire to Fleur. When the clock struck seven, I was already in the living room of the vacation home, waiting for Fleur's arrival. This time, there was no potion waiting for her, I wanted to test the limits of her training.

When she arrived, she was wearing the bulkiest robe I have ever seen, her arms wrapped around to provide extra protection. That view excited me instead of disappointing. After all, there a reason for her apparent vulnerability, likely the fact that what lied underneath was much different than her usual mode of dress.

She walked inside, her steps indecisive. "Why don't you remove your coat and relax," I offered, confident that she was smart enough to recognize the order. She didn't disappoint, walking towards the coat hanger shakily, her hands visibly trembling as she unbuttoned her robe. Then, she removed it, revealing her body clad in my gift.

"Marvelous," I exclaimed even as I slowly dragged my gaze from bottom to top. She was wearing high-heeled black leather boots that climbed to the middle of her thighs, a fishnet taking the mission to cover her legs after that, if a bit unsuccessfully. My gaze climbed upwards, reaching to her bottom, covered only for a certain interpretation of the word due to the thong I picked, again in black like rest of her clothes.

Her belly was covered with the leather corset, which ended just before her breasts, leaving the task of hiding her body to her lacy bra, which, like her thong, wasn't really successful in its given task. To top it all, her face, looking erotic despite the undecided expression, her lipstick midnight black to match the rest of her clothing.

I called her closer with a twitch of my finger, until she was standing in front of me, then I did a circle. Her blush intensified, but she nevertheless completed the twirl, putting her whole body to my attention. "Beautiful, simply exquisite," I said. She said nothing, but the smile that bloomed on her face despite her best effort to contain hidden showed her satisfaction. "Why don't you take a seat," I said, and she moved towards the seat next to me, but stopped when I patted my lap. Her blush intensified, but she still sat down on my knee, away from my crotch. It was a situation I was no intention of suffering, so I wrapped my arm around her corset covered belly and pulled, enjoying her squirm, as her ass slid over my shaft, already erect thanks to the exquisite view generated by her. "So," I murmured into her ear, her back pressing against my chest. "Did you like my gift."

She moved in her place a bit more, uncomfortable by being questioned, but I didn't let her skip the question, squeezing her thigh hard. "I did," she managed to whisper.

"Good girl," I said, patting her leg as an approval, which interestingly caused her to sit straighter. "So, tell me, how do you feel while dressed in those clothes."

Again, the answer came delayed, and only after a bit of coaxing from me in terms of squeezing her leg, this time closer to her core. "It feels … good," she whispered.

"Tell me in detail," I said even as my hand, which was busy squeezing her legs earlier, slid to her inner thigh, and started rubbing softly.

She moaned softly, surprising me just how much could be achieved by correct selection of an attire. "I felt ashamed at first, like naked. But I continued watching myself in the mirror, and at some point, I started to feel pride, exploring a side of me I hadn't know it existed." She stopped for a moment, taking a deep breath. "And it felt good, like I was finally complete…"

It wasn't an opportunity to be missed, so my fingers climbed upwards until they were caressing the edge of her thong. She gasped, loud enough to surprise herself, and her hand reached towards mine in an attempt to stop me. "No," I whispered, no inflection in my tone, mostly because I wanted to test my control over her. A clear order, she would have followed, but a comment barely above a whisper was a different story. Nevertheless, she followed my command, her hand fell back to the side. "Good girl," I whispered as I leaned forward, putting a small kiss on her neck. Her shivers were tastier than any nectar.

No words passed between us for a moment, my fingers caressing the edge of her nether lips, her mouth busy with letting out small, barely audible moans. She was like a finely tuned instrument, responding to the slightest twitch in the rhythm. It was nothing short of a miracle that she came in just four sessions, reinforcing my idea of taking her for myself perpetually. She was a masterpiece, far too precious to be left to an idiot like Weasley, who clearly didn't appreciate her like she deserved. Who in their right mind would leave such a precious flower unplucked while dating for two years?

A loud moan brought my attention back to the present, telling me that it was time to up the efforts once more. I brought my hand over her shoulder, then traced down until I found her bra clasp, which was opened with barely a touch, of which she stayed unaware. At least until my hand moved sideways until it reached her amazing globes, pushing her bra out of the way. "What are you doing," she exclaimed in a sudden panic that broke her trance of pleasure. For a moment, at least.

I mumbled calmingly. "You have been working on our deal amazingly, so I decided to reward you." I sank my fingers into her flesh even as I pushed the edge of her thong away, exposing her nether lips to my naked attention. Just a touch was enough to send her on a small trip of pleasure. "But I can stop if you don't want it."

For nearly a minute, no answer came, leaving me free to caress her body freely, pushing her arousal to a new level. However, it wasn't just her passive consent I wanted. I wanted her to ask for it, even beg for it if I could manage. So, I stopped, only for her head to turn to me hard enough to suffer a whiplash. "Do you want me to continue?" I asked, close enough that our noses were touching. She nodded rapidly. "I want to hear it from your beautiful lips," I added.

The sudden rise of her blush was adorable, triggered by a compliment despite the situation we were currently in. "Yes," she managed to whisper.

"Sorry, I couldn't hear it," I said, my hands hovering just above her sensitive spots.

"Please continue," she repeated, avoiding my eyes. I thought about forcing her to look into my eyes but then decided otherwise. I didn't want to push too fast and break the flow, losing all the progress I had managed to achieve. Instead, my hands landed back on her chest, resuming the delivery of my erotic massage. Her moans rose once again, this time louder, unrestricted. A minute later, I pushed even farther, vanishing my shorts and underwear, my meat lodged between her cheeks. Her only reaction was to turn towards me, a dash of panic in her eyes, but I started caressing her nether lips faster, and her panic had drowned in a rush of pleasure.

She started trembling, her juices in free-flow. In response, I quickened the pace of my attention, one of my hands mauling her flesh and twisting her nipples, the other exploring her entrances aggressively. Her head turned back to met my eyes once more, her mouth opened to ask for mercy, her lips, painted black, shining in arousal.

I wasn't an idiot, so I leaned and captured her lips, stealing my first kiss. For a moment, she stiffened, which didn't surprise me at all. We had done a lot of things together, but kissing represented a different level of intimacy, a level that she had no intention of providing…

But she lacked the willpower to fight against the desire, not when she was still suffering the aftershocks of one orgasm while closing in for a second, under throes of a pleasure she hadn't known existing. Her lips started to move, erratic, confused, but nevertheless answering my prodding, locked into a kiss until the second orgasm hit, hard enough to send her into the realm of unconsciousness.


	9. Chapter 9

I had to admit, I was surprised. I hadn't expected such a huge progress when she first arrived, dressed in clothing of my choice. Her unconscious weight pressing on me was pleasant, one that tempted me to maintain the position, allowing myself to enjoy the tickling warmth of her beautiful body. Still, I decided against it, because it would be a pity to miss such a beautiful opportunity passively when I could do much more.

After casting a spell to get rid of her remaining clothes, I walked to the bathroom, holding Fleur in my arms in a bridal hold, the way her naked skin rubbing mine making it hard to stay on the plan. Still, I kept my desires back, what was the point of living if you fulfilled every desire as soon as they occurred. A minute later, I was in the bathroom. I filled the bathtub with a lazy wave of my wand while simultaneously expanding it, adding bubbles and bath salts as the next step, even though I wasn't perfectly happy about their necessity. They were going to hide Fleur's spectacular body from my eyes for a while, a detail that I didn't like despite its criticality.

But once again, the long terms need of the plan triumphed. It was important for Fleur to be able to relax next to me, and that would be almost impossible while her body was on display. Bubbles would give just enough cover to prevent a freak-out, while keeping her aware that a careless movement could get rid of the cover she relied on to stay hidden. Just what I needed to subject her after the latest moment we had shared. With that in mind, I carefully placed her in the bathtub until her chest was barely submerged, and then sat across her, our legs touching. The bathtub was large enough for us to be comfortable, but not large enough so she could avoid touching me.

I waved my wand for the one last time, adding a jacuzzi-like effect to it, then leaned back, waiting for her consciousness to return after the latest round of playing. There was a huge smile on her lips as her eyes opened, though she looked like she might elect to return to her sleep any second, an unacceptable development, I had no intention spending hours in the bathtub while she caught up with her sleep. "Good morning, sleepyhead," I said, unable to keep a smug smile off my face. It was hard to not to feel pride after pushing a breathtaking beauty to the unconsciousness with just my touch.

Her eyes forced open in panic. "Malfoy-," she said in a panic as she tried to stand up, only to slip even deeper in the water, unbalanced, her coughing stealing rest of her sentence. She was wheezing and sputtering as she rose, though in her panic, she probably missed the fact that she had risen more than what could be called appropriate, revealing her tits to my gaze, partially hidden by the bubbles that managed to stick her naked skin.

It was a mouth-watering view, a fact I had no problem informing Fleur about, no words necessary. It took a second for her to realize I was avoiding her eyes, focusing on her chest instead, and another second passed before she could process what that meant. She sank in the water in a hurry, even her chin hidden under the bubble. "Come on, sweetheart," I said in a casual tone. "Isn't it a bit late for to be ashamed of your own body, not that you have anything to be ashamed, of course."

As usual, the casual compliment brought another deep blush to her face. Well, it enhanced the previous one that was already there, not a surprising fact considering the details of the situation. "Still," she managed to murmur. "I need to dress and go, we're finished."

"If you prefer so," I said, but she made no move to get out of the water, no doubt not wanting to keep her body hidden from me. Unfortunately for her, it only made me more enthusiastic about the situation. Seeing that no movement was incoming, I let my hands sink under the water, traveling until they reached to her foot. I took a hold of her delicate appendage and brought my hands closer to the surface, her gaze focused on her own toe currently peeking out of the foam barrier. I let my finger dance over the sole of her feet, making me glad that massage was one of the skills I had attained in my past life.

"I need to go," she repeated once more, but compared to this one, even her panicked exclaim at the first one came across as one of the finest examples of decisiveness. It was a weak, trembling statement, clear that she didn't say because she believed it, but said because it needed to be said, so that later on, she could rationalize the moment in her mind. I decided to allow her to have that moment, it was nothing more than a symbolic gesture of pride after the armistice was signed.

"You can always go after resting a bit to catch your breath," I answered, even as I pressed my fingers deeper into her skin. Soon, she forsook her ability to speak in lieu of biting her lips. Still, I received my answer in the form of a nod, doing its best to come across reluctant. Not a task that she was able to succeed much.

My fingers continued their dance on their dance after switching to her other foot. "Do you want to have any wine," I asked, pointing to the small table that was just outside her reach, holding an exquisite vintage of rose wine. She nodded and reached, one hand pressing to the edge of the tube for stability as she rose, the other reaching for the wine, her breasts on display once more. I didn't know whether she missed that detail or didn't care, but both of the options were attractive in their own manner, but also showed that I needed to hasten my plan.

When I completed massaging her calves and moved to her thighs -a time which she managed to drain more than half of the bottle-, her attempts to act like it wasn't affecting her was long forsaken. Her face was a mask of pleasure, her arms clasped on the edge of the tub, one only leaving for occasional sips from the wine, not caring a bit the fact that the cover of bubbles getting thinner and thinner, displaying a delicious silhouette crawling under the water.

It suited me perfectly, as I climbed up on her thighs, just at the edge of her nether lips, but carefully avoiding to touch. The expression on her face was delicious, losing all traces of the struggle, enjoying the moment. Of course, the pure bliss was replaced with frustration when the minutes rolled but I deliberately avoided her most sensitive spot despite repeatedly alluding for it. For the first time in the bathtub, she raised her gaze to met mine, questioning. I just shrugged, my smug smile telling the complete story. If she wanted me to bring her to the climax, she had to ask for it. Otherwise, she would return home with an unfilled need burning her heart.

It took less than ten seconds for her to fold. "Draco," she murmured in a voice barely above a whisper. "Is it possible for me to complete the third part of the deal as well?"

I nodded, amused that she managed to find a way that didn't come across pure horniness. Appearances were important, even if we both knew the reality behind it. I patted my lap and moved a bit forward. She sat on legs, her own wrapped around my waist. I wouldn't lie, I was tempted, with her pussy, burning with desire, just an inch away from my shaft. It would be so easy to lift her butt, and slid inside her in one smooth motion. But I had a better plan for now. I leaned back and waited for her to start.

The wait wasn't long. One of her hands wrapped around my shaft almost instantly, moving up and down, while her other hand reached for her own slit. Again, unacceptable, I thought and gently grabbed her wrist, and shook my head. She looked at me in askance, but it was replaced with pleasure when she realized where my other hand was. I started tracing the edges of her lips, each touch enhanced with the touch of the water. Her second hand joined the first, sometimes grabbing the base, sometimes shifting to my balls. The level of improvement she was showing was unbelievable, her earlier wooden movements were left to dust as her hands danced over my shaft. There was still a lot that could be improved in terms of skill, of course, but her burning enthusiasm was enough for now.

Still, I was surprised when she slid closer, her slit pressing to the side of my shaft, riding the edge up and down. The situation was already hard, so her push proved enough to destroy the barrier, and I dirtied the water white. Of course, I wasn't alone on that. Noticing my impending orgasm, I quickened the movement of my fingers, bringing her over the cliff with me. She started trembling as the climax hit her with the full force, and her arms wrapped around my torso to balance.

Always an opportunistic, I leaned forward and captured her lips. This time, there wasn't even a hint of struggle as my lips slowly teased hers, joining the dance with no hesitation. Time passed, and my shaft returned back to life, but her only reaction was to wrap one hand around it and teasing lazily, the kiss stretching long.

Then, without an outside reason, she pulled back, her face filled with guilt. She must have realized the exact position she had been in, after all, sharing a slow, sensual kiss in a bathtub didn't really fit the convenient narrative of blackmail. "I need to go," she whispered in panic and jumped out of the tube. "See you in three days," I shouted behind her, enjoying the way her assets were tumbling as she dashed away. Then, I started planning the details of the plan, as the next scene was going to be the conclusion of our little game…

* * *

With Fleur gone, I had nothing else to for the night, so I went back to the library, studying the books I had pilfered from the Black library, filled with an amazing range of spells and concepts, though most of them were quite freaky, they were nevertheless effective. Satisfied thanks to the success of Fleur's plan, I decided not to bother with visiting Hermione tonight, though Narcissa was a different story.

With my business in the library done, I apparated directly to Narcissa's bedroom. I was surprised to find her lying on her bed face down, her butt risen high for easy access, her fingers going in an out to attain release. I didn't lose any time, of course. Dismissing my pants with a push, I was behind her before she could even start reacting, pushing my shaft balls-deep into her tunnel. Her mouth, opened to say something, instead, let out a loud moan. I grabbed her hair and pressed her head on the pillow, muffling her moans, though they were loud even in their reduced state.

Most of the road already completed, her climax came unsurprisingly quick. But I didn't give her any time to gather herself, continuing to slamming inside her in a frantic pace. She managed to turn her head and managed to whisper. Though her words disappeared in the loud noise of my rhythm, I realized that she was asking for a break.

A hard spank was her answer. "Are you presuming to order me, slut!" I said in a sharp tone, enjoying the way she wilted under my words, especially since I could feel her getting even tighter. "Good," I exclaimed and continued my assault, pelting her ass with occasional spanks, her moans getting louder as her ass got redder. "Damn, you're kinky," I said. She really was, though that schmuck Lucius was too busy kissing Voldemort's ass to ever notice. Just a few soft manipulations, and she was crawling in pleasure as a man that she thought as her son impaled her without mercy.

I was curious how long it would take to train her until she would follow my every order without blinking, no matter how degrading. I didn't expect for her to hold out for long.

* * *

The next three days passed in a blur as I run around both the magical and normal world, trying to set up the inception steps of several of my plans. I spent almost half-a-day in William Weasley's prison, hidden behind the cloak of invisibility, casting a wide range of subtle, but insidious curses over him, helped by the fact that he was exhausted in the prison. I was so tempted to make him watch the tapes I had made with Fleur, as his expression of anguish while watching his wife rubbing herself on my shaft in her own violation would have been fun. Still, I held myself back. William Weasley still had an important part to play in my plans.

Then came the evening where Fleur was going to entertain me once again, the one before the last time according to our deal. I heard the sharp crack of apparition ringing in the opening, announcing the presence of my guest. Admittedly, I was curious about the way she dressed. It had been three days since I had seen her, a period my hold on her either waned in the absence of reinforcement, or got even stronger due to her desire.

Then, she turned the corner, and I nodded in appreciation. Apparently, the hold of desire got stronger. She was dressed in an almost complete opposite of the way I had forced her to dress, white and silk replacing black and leather, but the result was no less impressive. No, I corrected myself as I examined her long silk dress, waving gently with her each step. She was even sexier that way. The leather ensemble, sexy as it was, hadn't been a concept that fit her well. She was neither rebellious enough, nor jaded enough to pull the look. A semi-transparent silk dress, riddled with strategic openings, was much different. She walked like a dream towards me, a determination I could read in her face like an open book. She realized our encounters were about to end, and she decided to enjoy them to max without feeling guilty. After all, she was doing all to save her husband, which was a very noble goal. Where was the harm if she took a bit of pleasure.

Of course, when she stood in front of me and say on my lap without a word, these thoughts took the backseat, unable to fight against the beauty of the moment. She leaned forward, her lips parted just right, acting like she was about to kiss me, only to pull back at the last second, curling mischievously. I could have pulled her hair and forced her into a kiss, but didn't, happy to see she was finally showing some initiative. She leaned over me once more, again missing my lips at the last second, this time, her lips leaving the ghost of a kiss on my cheek.

Then, she stood up, and walked towards the wireless, scrambling until she came across a sensual music. When she walked back towards me, her whole mannerism was different. She was more real and dreamlike at the same time, even watching her spellbound walk enough to kill a lesser man. I, on the other hand, just leaned back and enjoyed the show as she glided across the room, her long skirt enhancing the illusion even more. She twirled, turned, twisted, all the while my manhood imitating granite.

Then, her hands found the straps of her dress, pushing them to the side, and her dress slid off her like a dream, leaving her in just her underwear, a thin lacy set that failed to hide anything, while managing to make her features even more striking. From the expression she had, I could see that it was her objective from the start.

After she made sure that her mode of dress had the exact impact she wanted, she took her rightful seat once more, her lips separated by a hair's breadth, a distance she refused to pass. I didn't push her either, wanting to see the limits she was going to push. Her hips started rocking, sending shocks of pleasure across my body, so overwhelming that I would have creamed already if I wasn't used to her splendor. Even with that, it was a struggle, a beautiful, heart-stopping struggle, but a struggle nevertheless.

Minutes passed during her dance over my lap, then she grabbed my hands and put them on her legs, her gaze hungry, inviting. I took the invitation and started exploring her body. At the same time, her hands removed my buttons one by one, leaving my torso naked. Her hands continued caressing my chest, but this time, her nails entered into the equation, dragging over my skin hard enough to leave thick red tracks behind. But no words of protest departed my lips, letting her do as she wished. Meanwhile, my hands explored her body with feather-light touches, treating her like a crystal angel that could turn into dust in a careless touch.

Then, she stood off my lap, the dress sliding off her body, leaving her naked in all of her glory. I could see her eyes flashing with arousal, her slit dripping with passion. All told, a really tempting vision. Which was why it was a bit annoying for an owl fly inside, carrying a letter for me. "Good news," I told her, annoyed despite being the one that set up the plan this way. "Your husband had been let out from the observatory, and sent back to home a couple hours ago." Fleur froze in shock, the expression of regret drowning her arousal as she stood motionless.

Just as I planned.


	10. Chapter 10

Despite the struggle on her face, I knew that what she was going to do, which was I proactively offered her that, of course, a small trap buried in the offer itself. "Look, I understand that you need to be with your family," I said, keeping my voice sympathetic, a ridiculous concept considering I was blackmailing her for her presence, but in the haze of the moment, it was a detail she missed easily. "I'll find you when you don't have anything else to do, okay?" Fleur nodded, disappointment and confusion warring on her face for the first place as she pulled her dress back on, followed by her robe, her movements choppy like she was drunk. I watched her with a smile in my face, enjoying the fact that she had no inkling of what she had just agreed, and how I was going to use it soon, where she least expected.

I said nothing until she apparated away, then pulled the Invisibility Cloak on myself and apparated, directly to the lawn of Shell Cottage, where I could see Fleur walking towards the window, glancing inside to see whether her husband had arrived at home. Then, instead of walking through the front door to greet him, she carefully sneaked towards the back door, and I followed.

It made perfect sense for her to avoid her husband. After all, it might be a bit complicated to explain why she was wearing a semi-transparent dress with no underwear, complete with a mussed up hair and hickeys trailing her neck. I managed to slip inside before she could close the door. I knew I was playing it excessively safe by being present, as William Weasley should be completely impotent for a few weeks due to careful regimens of potions he was fed while he was in jail. I didn't want to take any risk. Tonight was a critical part of my plan, and I wanted to be present in case an unexpected variable risked derailing my master plan.

Soon, we were at Fleur's bedroom, and I watched her change in a hurry, only stopping to cast a few healing charms to remove the hickeys from her neck, reducing herself from a supercharged sex angel to a boring housewife. It was painful to watch her pulling back into her shell after watching her awakened, in all of her glory. Still, it was the last slump before the climax, I consoled myself as I followed her downstairs. However, when Fleur silently sneaked out of the back door, planning to enter from front door once again to act like she just arrived, I chose to move directly to the living room.

William Weasley was sitting on the couch, a noticeably large pile of empty beer bottles next to him. I smirked. It made sense for him to recharge through drinking, considering prison time was never enjoyable even with all improvements. But that still hadn't changed the fact that Fleur was going to react it negatively. She wouldn't say anything but she would avoid his close touch because she hated the smell of beer. Even I knew that, and I met with Fleur less than ten days ago, with sporadic, albeit intensive, meetings after that.

My observation proved correct when Fleur stepped into the living room, walking towards her husband, but with her nose tweaked in annoyance. "Bill, you're back," she said, trying to sound happy, but I could easily hear the undertone of disgust in her tone. Still, she persevered and walked to her husband, leaning forward for a kiss, only to switch to a peck to his cheek at the last second.

William looked less than satisfied with the lukewarm welcome by his wife, but that was nothing against the Fleur's expression against his next words. "My mom is about to be here in a minute," he declared casually. I decided that I liked William very much. I couldn't come up with a better way to push Fleur away from him even if I tried. The hostility between his mother and his wife was legendary, evidenced by the spark of anger that passed through Fleur's face even with the slightest reference to her mother in law. Normally, I was planning to leave after making sure nothing would happen, but Molly Weasley's appearance changed things. I decided to watch the spectacle which promised to be extremely amusing.

For the next four hours, I owed my life to the inventor of the silencing charm, as I would have probably cracked a vein if I tried to hold my amused cackling. It was so ridiculous, watching William enjoying the pampering of her mother like he was still a child, playing passive whenever his mother carelessly insulted Fleur with barely concealed comments. William kept his mouth firmly closed even with the topics that were clearly his fault, such as the thick stench of alcohol, and the pile of bottles on the ground, while Fleur was blamed for not taking care of him. After that, I noticed that Fleur was more than happy to go to the kitchen, her disappearances taking longer and longer. Her expression filled me with anticipation, as I could see her reflexively comparing every moment with the time she spent with me, a flicker of excitement appearing whenever she got a far-away look in the kitchen.

Fleur had an exhausted look when Molly finally left, but not before feeding William with a humongous amount of food to compensate for all the horrible food he had to eat in the prison. "Should we move to the bedroom," William said with a clear excitement on his face, expecting his wife to share his enthusiasm, as if he actually thought she would be aroused after spending hours with in-laws, subjected to a variety of verbal insults, some covered, some direct, all without even the slightest protection from her husband… He was a real idiot, I decided. I was basically doing a favor taking her off his hands so that he could return playing the rebel son of her precious mother.

"Let's go," Fleur said, her tone listless. William missed it though, a combined result of his drunkenness and his thickness. Fleur climbed the stairs quickly, William following her with the occasional stumble. But Fleur was already in the bathroom, behind the locked door, when William managed to stumble into his bedroom. "Fleur, where are you?" he asked, his words coming across as an indecipherable slur.

"I'm in the bathroom, getting ready," she answered, using it as an excuse to gain some time, her tone shouting her reluctance, something that missed by her drunk husband. It must have been hard for her, thinking that she was martyring herself for her husband's safety, only to enjoy the attention of her blackmailer more than her husband.

"Okay, hurry up," William answered as he threw himself on the bed. I readied myself to cast a sleep charm that would ensure his sleep for the next sixteen hours, only for his snoring to start before my intervention, his mother's cooking proving more effective than the sleeping charm. Of course, I cast the sleeping spell on him nevertheless, not wanting to take the risk of him waking up and screwing up the plan midway.

It took more than fifteen minutes for the bathroom door to open, revealing Fleur, dressed in the thickest, most boring robe imaginable, a clear message to her husband, if only he had been awake to receive it. The expression on her face was priceless, a perfect mixture of relief and anger. She watched his sleeping figure with disbelieving eyes, the ratio of anger in her expression climbing quickly. She might have been stayed passive in such situation before her sexuality had been awakened under my forceful attention, but not now, not after she tasted the wine of the sexual ecstasy.

Still, even I wasn't expecting her next move. Stomping angrily, she walked towards the bed and quickly scribbled a message. I leaned above her shoulder, only to see that she was writing a short message to me, saying that she was going to pay another visit tonight. She tried to justify it in the message of course, claiming it was to free her of her final obligation, allowing her to focus on her marriage, but I was there to watch her vindictive glares to her husband, clearly using the visit to pay her husband back. I shrugged. I wasn't exactly unsatisfied with the reason. I was all for humiliating her husband, as long as I was the tool of choice for her to bring that result.

She wrapped the letter to her owl's leg, and I cast a weak confundus charm to make sure the bird went directly to the vacation home instead of trying to find me. I didn't know whether an owl could detect me under the Invisibility Cloak, but it wasn't the time to test it. Instead, I stayed in the room, watching with desire as Fleur shed her ugly robe and granny panties, wearing a set of white frilly underwear, cute but revealing, obviously bought for the wedding night. Yet another victory, I marked, watching her pull on the underwear she had painstakingly picked for her husband before.

I didn't wait for her preparations to complete. I sneaked out to the back garden, and teleported out to the living room of my holiday home, the owl already waiting for me. I scribbled a quick positive answer and started waiting for her to appear.

I hadn't had to wait for long. Fleur walked through the door, wearing a pink flimsy bathrobe to cover her actual clothing. "Welcome," I said with a smile on my face. "I can't say I was expecting to see you tonight. I would have expected you to spend time with your husband instead." I checked the clock exaggeratedly. "It had been six hours since you had left, should I be impressed that your husband managed to last against your beauty for six hours. Color me impressed."

I could see her anger flaring even deeper with every reference to her husband. "I decided to complete our deal tonight," she answered. "I want to continue my marriage with a clean slate."

"Whatever you say, beautiful," I answered, not bothering to call her on about her very obvious lie. Her face was an open book, telling to story for all that could read. "Why don't you come and warm my lap, then," I added, pulling my pants and underwear down as she walked towards me in slow, sensual steps, providing me with a show better than anything else I had seen in my life, her frustration awakening her desire to prove herself.

Standing in front of me, she pulled the sash of her bathrobe and threw it on the ground in one negligent move, leaving her wrapped only in her wedding-night garb to my attention. Without hesitation, she sat down across my length and started rocking her hips, the arousal blooming on her face instantly. I realized that she was still suffering under the arousal I hadn't given to her hours ago. An oversight that was easy to fix, I thought as I pulled her closer, trapping her body in contact with mine. No argument rose from her lips, not that it was surprising. They were temporarily rendered useless, for that particular usage at least. They were still more than capable of serving as my amusement, following the lead of my lips in a merciless tango.

I could feel her arousal rising unchained. It was the time to conclude my plan. I lifted her, my cock jumping upright immediately. Then, a negligent push later, her slit was free for an unbound push. I pressed my shaft on her entrance, but waited for her to realize what was going on. I expected her to argue against me taking her virginity. "No," she moaned in panic, the fear she was trying to project turning into a weak echo, drowning the pleasure. "You cannot. I kept myself for my wedding bed."

I smiled, her answer was the more useful than I had ever hoped, giving me the perfect excuse to bring the situation to the conclusion. "So be it," I answered, and suddenly apparated, taking her with me.

Her eyes grew in shock as she realized where we were. "Non," she cried in panic, looking around helplessly before fixing her gaze on her sleeping husband. "What are we doing in my bedroom."

"Well, sweetheart," I said with a smug smile. "You said you were saving yourself to your wedding bed. And here we are. Even your husband is here." I pushed her on the bed, her arms pushing to bed in reflex, which had the added benefit of forcing her to the doggy position. And then, without waiting for her to answer, I pushed into her mercilessly, earning a cry that would be heartrending if I had any mercy.

"Non, non, non!" she repeated like a mantra with every time I slammed inside her, her tits trying to move freely only to be prevented by her bra, but interestingly, every time she repeated, it sounded less like a wailing, and more like a moan of pleasure. She would have tried to push me away, but her arms were busy trying to keep her upright. Instead, she tried to pull away, something I prevented by taking a hold of her hips, the power she was able to exert was negligible. I slammed inside her again and again, and soon, the only sound that left her mouth was wordless cries filled with unbounded pleasure. Still, the quickness of her mood change was the best indicator of her dwindling love to her husband. Her attempts to escape transformed, her hips swayed back an forth in the same pace as my beats, pushing my shaft deeper into her.

Even her token attempts to keep her voice low didn't last long, her voice loud enough to rattle the windows as I pushed inside her again and again. I decided it was time to catch a vision of her beautiful breasts, so I reached for the hooks of her bra, opening it with a soft touch. Her flimsy bra fell on the bed. I leaned and grabbed her breasts, sinking deep into her beautiful flesh, her nipples hard against my palm.

Struck with a desire to see her face, I pulled out. She let out a disappointed cry that tempted me to tease her with a session of denied orgasm, but after all the fruitless sessions, I was just as enthusiastic as her, so I just pushed her to side. Not expecting, she tumbled, finding herself lying on her back, next to her husband, naked other than the flimsy panties that afforded her no protection. But even then, they were an unwelcome barrier, so I ripped them off before sliding inside her once more.

"How do you feel, princess," I asked even as I slid my full length inside her.

"I feel horrible, you disgusting man," she answered, but her face, contorted with pleasure, clued me that it was far from her actual feelings. The repeated gasps of pleasure escaping from her lips, uncaring about the presence of her husband, was just a bonus. I pushed deeper into her even as leaned forward, capturing her lips with a searing kiss. This time, there was no reluctance as her lips countered mine. Her allure flared uncontrollably, enhancing my pleasure even further. I doubted that I would be able to pull away from her even without the effect, but with the effect of the allure added, I would continue even if the house was on fire.

"You hate this, right?" I asked.

"I do, with all my heart," she answered, a statement that might be comfortable if it wasn't for an earth-shattering moan following it.

I smirked. "I'm sure you are. After all, why else your legs would be wrapped around me, forcing me to push deeper." She blushed. "You are trying to just make me cum faster right?" I said. "Sooner I finish, earlier your horrible torture would end." The haze of pleasure invading her face, she wasn't able to do anything other than nodding helplessly. I smirked. "Ready yourself for it, then," I said. A second later, panic managed to cut through the pleasure as she realized what I was about to, but it was too late to react.

I let my cum fill her, triggering a mirroring climax in her. Her cries rose unbidden as her hands found my shoulders, her fingers digging deep. I stilled as my load filled her insides. "That was nice," I said as I pulled out, my allure enchanted body already pushing for a second boner.

"It's finally over," she murmured, relief and disappointment warring in her tone.

"Over?" I said as I grabbed her arm and forced her onto her feet before pushing her against the wall. A second later, I was behind her, my shaft aligned with her slit. "Honey, the night is just starting," I said before sliding inside her. That statement launched a long night, where we christened all possible surfaces of her bedroom, floor, sofa, bath, dressing room...

"And that's the fifth," I moaned as I filled her with my seed once again. "One load for every night you promised to assist me. Congratulations, Mrs. Weasley. You're now free of your obligations." She said nothing, but I felt confident to risk a guess and say the blissful expression on her face was little to do with the fact that she was now free of the weight of her obligation. I watched as Fleur's eyes fluttered helplessly. I leaned forward, pointed at her husband, and whispered. "If I was you, I would charm his memories, otherwise, it might be inconvenient to explain why you're shagged so thoroughly, leaking, while the only memory he had is sleeping uninterrupted." She said nothing, but I could see a shameful acceptance in her eyes, even as the realization hit her about the fullness of her betrayal. She was going to do that because there was no other option.

I pulled back, examining my masterpiece with proud eyes. There was a certain dark purity in what I just did, seducing a beautiful veela so completely that she was unable to utter a word of protest as I took her again and again in her wedding bed, next to her sleeping husband. Still, it was just a beginning…


	11. Chapter 11

The first stage of my plan for Fleur had come to completion, which left me quite satisfied. It was annoying that I needed to stay away from her for a while, until she could process the guilt and the pleasure she felt at the moment of her capitulation. The fact that her husband, rendered temporarily impotent with a select potion regiment, would be unable to touch her made things even easier. Even better, he needed to travel a lot due to his job, leaving Fleur at home, alone.

There would be no goodbye sex for him, not with his wife still filled with my seed.

Still, with Fleur left to wallow in her mind, I needed something else to do. Or someone, I corrected myself a second later. After all, my favorite bushy-haired bookworm was perfectly available. I wrapped my cloak around and apparated to the attic of Grimmauld Place once more. Kreacher appeared with a crack instantly, only to bow respectfully without a word. I pulled my head free from the invisibility cloak and gave him a nod in appreciation before continuing my trek downward. Kreacher was a nasty critter towards the people he hated, and extremely helpful to people he respected, no matter how morally dubious their actions. A perfect elf for a family like Blacks.

It was late in the night, which was why I was surprised when I saw the Golden Trio in the living room, having a massive row. Admittedly, I should have expected it. By removing the amulet from Mungundus' hold, I had destroyed the only clue they had to find a Horcrux, leaving them more directionless than a headless chicken. And the fact that Hermione, who usually took the lead as the voice reason and understanding, was frazzled with the magically-enhanced arousal she was suffering didn't help any. Especially since she couldn't even think to resolve it with Potter or Weasley. A delicious situation all around.

The fight lasted almost for an hour, which I listened attentively despite feeling bored. It ended, not because they managed to resolve it, but when Hermione threw her hands up in frustration and walked back to her room, leaving the boys to their own devices. They continued their fight, but I couldn't care less about their argument, so I followed Hermione, managing to slip inside her room before she locked the door.

It was a treat to watch her undress, each little motion filled with anger and frustration, the clothes flying off her, more than one piece torn. But she didn't show the slightest concern, instead, throwing herself to her bed back first, her legs already parted open. One of her hands found her tits, mauling mercilessly, the other teasing the circle around her clit, and soon, her cries rose unbidden. It was a beautiful sight, so I just watched her play with herself until she had one of her fake climaxes. Fake because the curses over her didn't allow for a real climax, keeping her high strung despite the waves of pleasure that spread through her body. The only exception was her dreams, influenced by my spell, starring only me as the main role. I was curious how she would react in our first real-world encounter.

Unfortunately, I had another pseudo-dream for tonight's entertainment. I waited until she started to tremble in a rough climax, only to nail her with an underpowered stunner, followed by a confundus to make her believe it was just a dream. A few carefully curated spells, and the room was radically different. She was still lying in the bed, but this time, it was larger, with four posters, and green silk curtains. The room was interlaced with the illusion of another, thematically like Slytherin common room, only more opulent, with transparent silk curtains and flickering lights. But those didn't compare to the fact that her arms and legs were tied down with silk ropes, again green and silver, charmed to prevent any bruising in case she struggled.

Only after making sure that there were no signs remained that might clue her that we were still her room, I removed my invisibility cloak and enervated her. Her eyes fluttered open, only to grow in shock. "You're finally awake, Miss Granger," I whispered in an erotic, inviting tone. I know it worked, because she shivered with each word, overcome with the pleasure. I was glad to see that my scheme was working even better than I had hoped.

"Malfoy," she said angrily, or at least in a manner she intended to come across as angry, but with her arousal added, it was more like a second-rate actress, trying to feign anger. It was interesting to see that even in her dream, or what she thought as a dream, she was still trying to deny the attraction that was clawing her heart. "What are you doing here?"

"Why, Miss Granger, don't you remember. You've been captured, and I decided to take you as my reward." As I spoke, I walked towards her, standing above her as the last words left my mouth. I let my gaze trail her body, drinking her naked deliciousness. It was an amazing sight, her toned body, bathed in the flickering lights of the room. Truly delicious.

"Go to hell, Malfoy," she spat, her anger momentarily overcoming her arousal in my dismissive attitude. It didn't annoy me, it just excited me more. After all, she wouldn't be fun if she folded under the slightest bit of pressure.

"Gladly, my dear," I answered, dragging my finger gently over her cheek until it touched the edge of her lips, then pulled away, watching as her mouth opened reflexively, her tongue darting out for a moment, begging for a kiss.

"So be it, you bastard!" she exclaimed. "Do whatever you want." It would have been a good ultimatum, the pure princess declaring that she was above the bodily concerns, pitying the villain. But that effect was spoiled by a few small details. First, her mouth was forced open by her quickened breathing, trying to cool down her arousal. The second was her eyes, filled with desire, examining my body like she was trying to devour my body. The last, and the most damning was her core, shining wet under the arousal.

"You misunderstand me, Miss Granger, I will not do anything," I said, and her expression crushed like a child that learned the Santa wasn't real. "Anything you don't allow me beforehand," I corrected my statement, and arousal returned to her body, this time a dash of guilt with it. Even in a situation she thought as a dream, consenting to my attention was a heart-wrenching decision for her.

I decided to make the decision easier for her. I put my finger on her neck, slowly dragging down, passing the valley between her delicious breasts without any detour towards her peaks. "You didn't ask permission for that," she said vindictively, inordinately glad that she had caught such a small detail.

"Apologies," I answered with an overdone modest voice. "Should I go away and leave you alone," I said, standing up, readying myself to leave her alone. It wasn't a bluff either, if she said go away, I would have gone away. After all, I still had Narcissa to fulfill my needs, unlike her, who will continue to burn with arousal. But as I expected, no answer came other than a deep blush, and I sat down next to her once more, continuing my trek from where I left off. I traced her belly, drawing large, lazy circles around her navels before moving onto her thighs. The whimper that rose unbidden from her lips as I skipped her slit, but she was still above begging.

She had managed to stay above begging for five more minutes as I focused on her inner thighs, making passes closer and closer to her nether lips, but never touching. "Please," she murmured at last, or it would be more accurate to say she moaned, but somehow managed to pack an actual word into her wordless gasp of desperation.

"Please, what?" I said, looking at her with a smug smile. "I am not sure what you are expecting of me, Miss Granger, but I can't read your mind. I'm afraid you need to be clearer."

She looked at me, undecided for a while before her expression shifting serious. "Please," she whispered. "Please make me cum."

"My pleasure, Miss Granger," I answered and my hand did another pass over her inner thigh, but this time, it took a detour and grazed her nether lips. The cry of pleasure that left her mouth was nothing less than a small miracle. My fingers danced around her clit, and she cried, each echo boosting my own pleasure deeper. Like with Fleur, I wanted to dismiss all of my plans, focusing solely on the pleasure of assaulting her mercilessly, only the memory of my enjoyment as I took Fleur over her husband's sleeping body kept me back. Just like that, I wanted to wait until she was ready to surrender to me bodily, unaware that I had no intention to be satisfied with nothing less than the possession of her soul.

However, this didn't mean I wasn't entitled for a taste. I pulled my hand, only to earn a disappointed yelp, but I was already in my new position between her legs, enough to smell her musky arousal. "Malfoy, what are you doing-ggg," she started asking, only for her words to devolve into an intelligible mess with a touch of my tongue, proving how backed up she was. I almost felt bad for her. Almost.

Instead, my heart was filled with a dark joy as she tried her best to destroy her bindings, but no word of protest about her treatment reached her lips. Still, my enjoyment was short-lived, as shortly after the start, her body started bucking, her arousal flowing free around my tongue. She was more than ready for the next stage of my attention, I decided as I righted myself, only to see her collapsed unconscious, a serene expression on her face.

"God damn it," I murmured as I started the mission of dispelling my surroundings until only thing remained was her naked figure, lying in her bed. I could have enervated her, but decided otherwise. After all, we had more than enough time together, and I could make her pay for this insolence, however involuntarily, the next time.

* * *

The next day, I found myself having little to do. There was still a few days for school to start, allowing me to have some real progress in my plans without Voldemort's attention. Even with the Snape and the other Death Eaters, the school was a vast, unbounded place, and there was little limit of my actions, especially in the Slytherin Dorm, where the teacher presence was non-existent for all intents and purposes.

Then I remembered one beautiful detail. Hermione and Fleur might have been out, but there was still Narcissa to have some fun with. And fun, I was going to have, I decided as I walked towards her room. I was half-surprised not to catch her masturbating in her bed, as it was getting exceedingly common as each passing day removed a bit more of her sense of shame.

"Draco," she purred in satisfaction. "I wasn't expecting for you to visit today."

"Do I need a permit to visit my beautiful mother," I answered, watching in satisfaction as she blushed under the compliment. It was nice to see the words carrying a weight even after all those encounters. Even more welcome was the way she reached her robe, loosening it already. "No need to hurry up, mother," I said, placing my hand over hers, halting her movement. "I realized that we are spending most of our time in a certain kind of way." She blushed, as it wasn't really hard to deduce I was referring to the mind-blowing sex we were having. But with it, came a bit of fear, one I was happy to see. "So I decided we are going to have an outdoor date, complete with a shopping expedition."

"But…" she murmured, only fall silent, her face thick red. I could have completed the sentence but chose not to, watching her wallow in her shyness, trying to utter the sentence. It was puzzling to me how she could feel shy speaking about the things we were doing while she was more than happy to do in bed, but it didn't prevent me from enjoying the struggle on her face. "But, we won't be able to be intimate," she managed to say at the end.

"No worries," I said, dragging my hand over her face. "After all, we're going out for the muggle London, and I'm sure we won't meet anyone that knows us."

"But they are filthy barbarians," she answered automatically, an expression of revulsion on her face.

"Come on, mother. Have you ever been to Muggle London."

"Once," she murmured. "But everywhere was so noisy and crowded, I was only able to stand for it for a few minutes."

I chuckled. "Don't worry, the place I'm going to bring you will be better." She nodded, and I raised my wand, transfiguring her robe into a modest blouse and a medium length skirt, shifting my clothing alongside with hers. She checked herself in the mirror, clearly unsatisfied. To be fair, it wasn't my best work, as there was no real need for it as well, considering our initial target. "Don't worry about your clothing, our first stop is a department store where we'll find something much sexier to you," I said, caressing her leg for emphasis. Then, before she could say anything else, I grabbed her hand and apparated us to a side street near the city center. I had no fear of being noticed by muggles, because I had already set up a small bubble there in a previous visit, reinforced by defensive wards and notice-me-not charms.

"What do you think," I asked her as we walked through the streets, not really crowded since it was still working hours.

"It's better than my previous visit," she murmured in fascination. "The buildings are much taller, and everything looks nicer." She looked at the surroundings, her attention caught by the dresses on the store windows. "Such colorful dresses," she murmured. Her fascination with the dresses was understandable. While somehow the muggle fashion for underwear had permeated to the magical world, the same couldn't be said for the dresses. Ugly robes still reigned supreme. A disgrace, in my opinion, as the magical world had so many spectacular women, that it was a crime to hide them from the sight.

"It's nice to see you enjoy it, mother," I said even as I sneaked my hand around her waist, pulling her tight, noting the way she happily merged to my body, showing that she had lost even the slightest concern about our prolonged intimacy. It was good because it meant that I could push her even further.

Wordless, we walked through the upscale streets of London, affluent stores and people flowing on both sides, until we came to a stop in front of a store that displayed a range of evening dresses on its windows. None of them sported any price tag, but I knew that even the cheapest one cost in four figures. A sum that would be a concern for the most cases, especially with the exorbitant conversion ratio between galleon and pound. But I found a good solution. A nighttime visit to Latin America, to the compound of a mid-level drug lord, invisible. A few careful applications of the Imperius and I was richer by ten million, and an overpowered obliviate ensured that there was no sign of my presence.

Normally, using that money would be a huge problem, considering I had no income in the muggle side to explain the money. But, goblins were always ready to assist me in that kind of issues, for a hefty fee of forty percent. A different kind of robbery for sure, but it was worth it considering it provided me with a perfect paper trail for the money, including establishing a company which I could use for my further investment needs. And currying favor with Goblins through bringing them the additional business was always a welcome detail.

We walked inside the store, and one of the salespeople moved towards us, an obvious distaste in her face, assuming that we were not likely to afford anything based on the state of our clothing. I flashed a card towards her, and she continued her walk, but the expression on her face much more schooled now. An Amex Centurion was almost magical in its presence, after all.

"How can I help you," she said, her enthusiasm boundless now that she was aware of my bottomless pockets, signifying a significant commission.

"We are looking for some cocktail dresses," I answered before Narcissa could even speak.

"Of course, this way please," she said, leading us to the second floor, where a nice waiting room was waiting for us with a comfortable looking sofa and a table piled with light refreshments. I sat down, sipping some sparkling water as Narcissa stepped towards the multitude of dresses that rested on the hangers, each more elaborate than the last. The sales assistant moved with her, and they started a long discussion about the cuts, fabrics, and other aspects of the dresses. I said nothing, content to watch Narcissa switching through a set of dresses, each sexier than the last.

I left them at peace, just occasionally commenting on her choices as she cycled through them, her face bright with excitement, though I picked my comments very carefully. The first dresses she picked was quite conservative, long, flowing skirts, closed backs, almost nonexistent cleavages… In other words, barely better than a robe.

But after select comments, encouraging her to experiment, her choices started to get interesting. Even more interesting was her face, a delicious contradiction of panic, shame, excitement, and arousal, the mixture getting stronger inversely with the amount of skin that was covered by her dress.

Soon, she came to the end of the pile she selected, the ones she chose creating a smaller, yet still sizeable, pile, and during that, I picked some new clothes for myself as well, jeans and a light colored shirt. "They are so beautiful," she murmured in excitement as she looked at the carefully packaged dresses, her imagination running wild.

"They are only beautiful on you, Narcissa," I said as I wrapped my arms around her waist, placing a soft, lingering kiss on her neck, enjoying the way she melted on my arms, halfway there due to all the excitement she built up by trying an increasingly revealing set of clothes. I passed a dress to her and whispered. "Why don't you try this one as well."

"Of course," she answered, and walked to the dressing room before even checking the dress. I watched behind, waiting for her to close the door, fully intending to follow her as soon as I made sure the assistant wasn't around.

* * *

 **Author notes: I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it.**

 **Also, just a reminder, you can find my original writing in my P/atreon, Dark Erotica. Also, you can find the first chapter of one of the stories in there, the Photographer. I hope you all enjoy.**

* * *

It was a weird feeling to look at the new place that was going to be my home for the next year. It was a nice, two-story building, one that would be an achievement to own as a fresh college graduate, even to rent.

Unfortunately, it was only the basement I was able to afford. Sad, but not unexpected. After all, I had chosen my major in visual arts, focusing on photography, willfully ignoring the fact that it was almost impossible to get a well-paying job, or even a job, after graduation. I believed that I had the ability to burst through the unbreakable ceiling, working with the best magazines, spending my nights with models who were desperately trying to get a photo shoot with me…

The reality didn't agree with my generous plans. There were no cushy jobs in top magazines, nor models desperately begging, willing to anything for a favor, and the student loans were crushing. The only luck I had was to find a freelance gig for an online shopping site, and even for that, the pay dwindled into nothing after I subtracted the pay for the models and the rent for the studio.

Which was why I was standing in front of this house. I was lucky enough to come across the ad a few days ago, where I was desperately looking for an affordable place to stay, since I had to leave the dorm. The basement was amazing, completely lacking windows, but with a tall enough ceiling that I could leverage it as a makeshift studio until I could make some money, freeing me from one of the biggest costs, renting a studio for each photo shoot. The landlady wasn't intending to rent it to a male, but a bit of playing the good boy, together with the offer to pay first three months in advance was enough to change her mind.

I even managed to stop myself from flirting with her, which was a veritable challenge. The landlady was a drop-dead gorgeous lady in her early thirties, one of the best bonuses of the place. I pressed the doorbell, and the door opened after a small delay, and the landlady stood on the other side, dressed in comfortable looking, but very conservative, sweatpants. "Stephen, welcome to your new residence," she said in a kind, welcoming voice, inviting me inside with a gesture, though it wasn't hard to catch an underlying reticence in her tone.

I wasn't really surprised to sense the reservation in her tone. She had mentioned me that her husband died a few years ago, and she was living with her daughters. It made sense that she was feeling stressed about a stranger about to reside in their house. Still, she was lucky, as the safety and happiness of the children were sacrosanct to me. I would do my best to protect and assist them. Unfortunately for her, the same protection didn't extend to sexy, voluptuous widows.

I followed her to the living room, my eyes were firmly on her bottom, watching as it shifted enticingly despite her loose pants. I spend a bit of time imagining the treasures that lay underneath, and how long it would take to convince her to reveal those treasures to my eyes. I opened my mouth to ask for whether the basement was ready for me to move in, but only a strangled gasp left my mouth.

I wasn't proud of the noise that I made, but I had a good reason for it. I wasn't expecting for a young woman to walk down the stairs, clad only in her underwear, no matter how conservative, and a pair of fluffy rabbit slippers, her eyes half-closed lazily. Curious, my landlady followed my gaze and looked upstairs, only to start shouting. "Nancy, what the hell are you doing! I told you that we are going to have a guest!"

Nancy's eyes popped open, and a strangled gasp left her mouth. "Mom!" she shouted, the mortification clear in her tone before turning and dashing through the stairs. I knew that it was wrong to look, but knowing its wrongness and actually refraining from watching as she climbed up the stairs was two different things, so I stayed focused on the lithe body that bounced the stairs. I was lucky that my landlady was busy watching her disappear instead of looking towards me. I didn't think that she would have taken well that I was watching her daughter run away.

"I'm so sorry for embarrassing you," she said as she turned towards me, reading the reason for my redness wrong. "It's my fault, I should have reminded her that you were going to arrive today. My oldest is a bit absentminded."

"Not a problem," I answered, but my mind was already on the next issue, trying come up with a nice way of asking. When she had first mentioned having a daughter, I assumed she would be a small child, considering my landlady didn't look a year over thirty, and even that was a stretch. But the girl who called her mother was clearly in her twenties.

She spoke before I could verbalize the question. "She is one of the daughters my late husband had from his first marriage," she explained, resolving the minor mystery. "But the lack of direct blood bond doesn't make her my daughter any less," she added, complete with the threatening gesture. The message was clear. They were under her full protection.

"Understood," I said with a placid smile. She was off-limits, if there was a risk of my landlady being aware, of course. Otherwise, it was the free season. "Is the basement ready? Sooner I set-up there, the better. I already have a shoot that I need to clear until tomorrow, and the model I arranged is going to be here in a couple hours."

She nodded, and I grabbed my luggage once more, trying to ignore their crushing weight. A few minutes later, I was looking at the room that was going to double as my workplace and my residence for a foreseeable future. On the one side, all of my personal effects were piled over a small bed, not that there was many, as I had to sell a lot of my belongings just to raise some capital for the tools of my trade.

I looked proudly to the items that rested on the left side of the room, and an early model camera that was perched over a worn-out tripod, the reflectors with more than one patch to repair the holes left by the careless smoking of the previous owner. Lenses rested in a beaten box, dirty with scratches. Still, I looked at them lovingly, knowing just how lucky I was to get them for less than two grand. They would have cost well above ten thousand if I tried to buy them brand-new.

I left my clothes as a pile, and turned my attention to my studio instead. I wanted everything to be perfect for my first shoot…

* * *

I was trying to contain my annoyance as I climbed the stairs, but it was a difficult task when an uppity slut had screwed up most of my plans, just because she remembered that she was supposed to attend a party at the last minute.

It wasn't that she was a unique beauty that was hard to replace. On the contrary, she was sub-par, both in attitude and in beauty. But there was one advantage that was hard to beat, that she was willing to work below the industry standards. It was important, because the job itself wasn't very lucrative. I tried to call a couple other cheap models that I occasionally worked with, but none of them were available for the day, which left me in a bind. I was supposed to finish the three dresses I had today.

Of course, I could always reach for an agency for a model, but their rates were much higher, high enough that I might actually lose money if the process if the shoot was delayed for any reason and I had to keep her for an extra hour.

"You look distracted," I heard my landlady saying. I turned, and saw her in the living room, watching TV.

"A bit," I answered. "My model just canceled on me. I'm trying to arrange a replacement, but with the time crunch, I'm not having much luck." Then, I noticed something important, one I might not have noticed if I wasn't under such a big pressure. Her sizes looked very similar to the model that was supposed to come. I wasn't completely sure with the loose clothing she was wearing, but I was sure enough to risk it. I let her continue talking, trying to come up with a delicate way to breach the topic, one that wouldn't leave me on the curb on the first day of my tenancy.

"Too bad that you couldn't use me as your model, right?" she said with a soft laugh. From her expression, it was obvious to see that it was a self-deprecating joke that wasn't meant to be taken seriously.

But I wasn't an idiot, so I pushed forward. I took a step forward, and let my gaze browse through her body in an obvious manner until she shifted in discomfort. "Actually, I'm not sure about that," I added, using the most professional and calm voice I could muster.

"What do you mean?" she asked, her discomfort taking the backseat for a moment as her curiosity asserted itself.

"You are a tall, beautiful young woman with a well-cared body. I fail to see why you can't be a model."

A blush much thicker than I have expected spread on her face. "But, I can't… It's not proper. And I'm not exactly young anymore"

"It's a job like any other," I said, a bit of passion infecting my voice despite my best effort. "There is no shame involved in modeling."

"I don't know…" she murmured once more, looking like she was about to reject the proposition.

I decided to change the tracks, focusing on the most important detail. She needed money enough to rent her basement to a man she didn't know, for a sum of a few thousand, indicating that she was having severe financial issues. "The pay is two hundred dollars per session," I said.

Her expression changed immediately. "Two hundred for a days' work?"

"Not for a day's work," I added, then continued hurriedly as her enthusiasm seemed to drain. "For two hours, or three hours tops." It was actually a bit more than what I was going to pay for today's model, but still well below what an agency would charge.

"A hundred dollars an hour," she murmured, shocked.

"A hundred that IRS has no idea about its existence," I said.

She looked conflicted, and for a moment, I was sure that she was about to accept, but then she spoke once more. "No, I can't," she said, though the conflict was obvious in her tone.

"You can put on a wig, some make-up, and a bit of careful digital retouching later, I can make sure that no one could identify you," I added, trying to break the most likely cause of her unwillingness. Luckily, there was actually a wig in today's set, because the company was obsessive about the hair color of their model.

"Really, no one?" she murmured, making me smile inwardly with the satisfaction of a perfect hit.

"Sure, let me prove you," I said, turned back and started walking. She followed me and soon we were in the basement.

"It looks nice," she said, her attention grabbed by the changes.

"I did my best," I added even as I reached for the clothes pack that was sent by the company, pulling the wig out. For once, their cheapness was helpful for my needs. They were quite peculiar about the hair color they wanted their clothes matched with, but they were not willing to pay enough to actually find a model that had that color naturally or as a die. "Why don't you put that on and walk just in front of the screen, so I could prove just how different I can make you."

She said nothing, but followed my directions nevertheless, which was the important face. Soon, she was cycling through a few basic poses based on my commands. "Good instincts," I said, impressed. She was quite easy to work with, despite the fact that it was the first time she was posing professionally. Not only she was able to follow the commands correctly after a few tries, she also didn't have the undeserved ego the failed models I usually worked with, wasting half of the shoot with their pointless opinions and bickering. "Now let's see just how different we can make you without destroying your beauty," I added, leaving a big blush on her face. A bit of flattery was never amiss.

I worked on the computer silently for a couple of minutes, mostly applying predefined filters and some broad strokes, prioritizing speed over the quality since it was not a final product but just a conceptual sample. "It's so beautiful and foreign," she murmured when I showed her the picture.

"Just foreign," I said, and her expression started to sour until I uttered my next words. "You are already beautiful, we just changed a few details." And just like I expected, she blushed once more, surprising me with the vulnerability she was showing towards even the simplest components. She must have stayed away from the dating scene for a while to take care of her stepdaughters, or the fact that she had daughters scared a lot of guys, like I expected to share the home with a few brats instead of hot twenty-somethings. "So, are you ready to start?"

"I don't know…" she murmured yet again, but this time, I could see that I was close to victory.

"You know, if they like the poses, there is no reason for us to not to work together for the other shootings as well. I'm sure that the extra revenue of a thousand wouldn't hurt."

"A thousand a month?" she repeated in surprise. "Do you think I can earn that much?"

"I don't see a reason not to, you are young, beautiful, and skilled," I repeated. "Why don't you go and try the clothes on the pack. And as an added perk, I'm sure that I could convince the company to gift them to you, including the make-up set they added to keep the color."

"Really," she said with a clear enthusiasm, making me realize that I should have started on that. Women and clothes, I would never understand it. Ironic, considering what I was making my living off. She picked the clothes and went upstairs, ignoring the small section I separated as a makeshift dressing room.

I turned my attention to the set as I waited for her arrival, conducting one last check on the equipment. I wanted everything to be ready before she came back. More time I spent trying to fix things, more time she would have to change her mind, and I didn't want that to happen. I needed this job to be completed without a hitch.

I raised my gaze as I heard the door open, only to see my landlady dressed in a nice dress, a bit tighter than it should be owing to her generous bosom and voluptuous bottom, but it worked even better like that. I was sure the company wouldn't have any problem. I certainly didn't have any. "It looks perfect," I said.

"Really," she said, doubt clear on her words, but nevertheless climbing down the stairs. "Don't you think it's a bit too tight?"

"Nope," I answered without skipping a beat. "It's just perfect. Now, stand in the middle, and give me a relaxed pose." She complied. "Now raise your hand a bit, and give me a bright smile…"

The next half an hour passed in a similar vein until I was able to gather an appropriate amount of decent pictures, a nice surprise. Even with the best estimation, I was expecting it to last more than an hour for the first set, owing for her lack of experience, but that she adapted much better than I had hoped to. She wasn't suddenly a top-tier model, but her ability to emote and pose was more than enough for the third rate website I was working for. More importantly, she followed my every command without any delay.

"Excellent. You're a natural," I said, breaking the flow. "Why don't you take five minutes to rest, maybe drink some fluids, then we can move onto the dress."

"Really!" she asked, her face bright with excitement, acting more like a teenager. "You're not telling me just to make me feel better, right?"

"Certainly not, Nicole," I said, deciding to take the chance to use her first name, testing the closeness that had inevitably built up during the period where she followed my every order.

"It's a relief," she answered, not commenting on my usage of her first name, instead of walking towards the package that was holding the second dress. "Isn't it a bit on the small side," she murmured, raising the dress over her silhouette.

I certainly agreed. It was much more revealing compared to the other dress, but thankfully, not as much as the one that would come after it. I had a feeling that she would have called off the shoot if she saw the other dress, but my luck held true, and her attention was firmly on the second one instead. She disappeared, holding the dress in her hands, only to appear a few minutes more, wrapped tightly in blue fabric. It fitted even better than I had hoped for, the dress hinting everything while leaving the mystery intact.

"Ready? Go back to the screen," I ordered, already looking through her through the camera. I could see that she wasn't completely sure about the dress, so I decided to push her a little. And to my pleasant surprise, she followed it almost automatically.

I was happy to be holding the camera in a way that would block my face, because it hid the sudden predatory smile that bloomed on my face. I noticed that my landlady was displaying several submissive tendencies, so it was like an unexpected gift. Even better, with still two dresses remaining, I had the perfect excuse to test just how far I could push her.

Still, I did nothing out of the ordinary for the first few minutes, allowing her to come to terms with being recorded while wearing a revealing dress, at least to her sensibilities. But her hesitance drained quickly once she bathed under the reflectors, signaling it was finally the time to push forward with the plan.

"Now, turn your back," I ordered, and she did like she had done several times before. The next part, however, was something new. "Now, lean forward like you were about to pick something from a low table." She followed my command, but decided to bend her knees instead of leaning forward. "Knees straight," my voice rang, sharper, more commanding than the usual.

Her body complied automatically, and she leaned forward, the dress riding up, displaying her milky thighs. I pressed the clicker with the full knowledge that I couldn't use that one for the site, as it was much more suggestive than they would be comfortable for such a dress.

The realization passed through her face a second later and she turned, her expression telling that she was about to complain, but I interjected before she could verbalize her grievance. "Good job, now, stand straight, and look to the side with a smile." And just like that, her argument was stalled as she rushed to her new pose.

"Turn towards me and reach towards the ground, your knees bending a bit," I ordered, and she did so. To her defense, she raised her hand to cover the cleavage that would occur in such move. Until my next order, that was. "Press your finger to your lips like you were surprised," I ordered. She tried to bring the hand she was using for the fake reach, but my voice rang commanding. "Keep your right hand in position," I ordered. It wasn't that I shouted, but my tone brokered no argument, demanding obedience. I had a submissive girlfriend when I was in college, and I knew what would work best in that case.

This time, the panicked expression came before the motion, fully aware that she was going to reveal more than she initially intended, but she did nevertheless. She brought her hand to her lips, leaving her cleavage, which would be quite modest if it wasn't for the peculiarity of the pose, revealing a delicious hint of flesh.

I could have let her go up, in the same way a lion that just caught a deer might let her go. Theoretically possible, but not very likely. "I want a bigger smile from you, but without erasing the surprise."

"How?" she murmured.

"Try to imagine yourself in that pose unwittingly, but try to enjoy the feeling that someone is looking down into your dress, captivated by your amazing breasts."

"But-" she started, only to fade when I let the camera fall down a bit, peering into her eyes, my face stern, without inflection. Without saying anything else, she took the pose once more, her lips tugging with a hesitant imitation of a smile.

"Better," I said with a soft tone, rewarding her for her good behavior. "A smile fits your beautiful face much better than a frown." Her smile trembled for a second, but this time, instead of trying to disappear, it was struggling to expand. A second later, the smile won the impromptu contest, spreading on her face. I took several shots even though it wasn't the pose that I had in mind, there was little reason to associate happiness with punishment. "Now, try to add a little mischievousness in that smile," I gently directed her. "Like you are playing a little joke at me."

She did so, causing my pants to go tighter. There was something innately erotic with that particular pose, one that awakened a desire to taste it without delay. Unfortunately, that was not a possibility, at least, not yet. Still, there was no harm in a bit of a preview. "Bring your arms to the side of your breasts, but keep the position stable otherwise," I ordered, and to my surprise, she did so without hesitation, enhancing the view even further. "Excellent," I added. "Now why don't you stand up once more," I added, letting her pull out from that particular revealing pose. I could have pushed further, of course, but there was little point testing her resistance until the third dress, where the real fun was about to begin.

"That's it for this one as well," I said, calling the session for a close.

"Was it as good as the first one," she asked, her face glowing with excitement.

"Even better," I answered. "You have a real talent for modeling. Now, why don't you change for this," I added, passing the dress to her. "Hurry up, we are a bit restricted for time." It was bullshit, of course, as I have informed her earlier that there was no time crunch. But just as I hoped, with the elation of a well-done job, she missed the contradiction with my earlier statement, just as she missed checking the type of the dress she just picked up.

Fifteen minutes passed, a time that was more than enough to change, leaving me worried that she had a change of mind after seeing the dress. But just as I was about to walk to upstairs, to check whether I could convince her, when the door opened, and her head pointed out from the entrance, rest of her body hidden behind the door. "I don't think this dress is the correct size," she murmured.

"Hard for me to comment without seeing," I said, letting just the right amount of annoyance to slip into my tone. She ducked her head in shame, yet appeared in the doorway. She looked amazing with the small black dress around her body, tight and short enough that even a slutty girl would have thought twice before wearing it to a club, and the fact that the dress was sized for someone less curvy than her made things even better. "Why are you waiting there, come down so I can take a good look of you," I added, watched satisfyingly as she climbed down the stairs, the tightness of the dress failing to hide the way her body trembled with each step.

"It seems perfectly okay for me," I said, trying my best to sound clinical, hoping that my arousal was going to be unnoticed. "Stand in the center, we are starting the shoot in a minute."

"But-" she murmured, her complaint aborted by a glare once more, and she took a relaxed pose in the middle of the room. I started, excitement blossoming in my heart. The time for compliance was getting shorter with each order, making me curious that just how far I could push her. Again, I kept my orders strictly limited to the safe poses for a while, until I decided it was the time.

"It's not working," I said, with a sudden sharp tone. "I can see the line of the underwear. Go and remove your panties."

That comment was more than enough to break her silence. "What?" she murmured in shock.

"You need to remove your panties," I repeated, pointing at the small section I sectioned to change clothes. "We can't use the poses where the lines are caressed." She looked like about to argue, even though my sharp tone had drained the fervor her first comment carried. "Hurry up, we need to finish it in a bit." In actuality, we were already finished, the pictures I took were more than appropriate. The rest was just for my personal enjoyment.

It was a delicious view to see her walking towards the curtain of the changing section. Slow, hesitant, blushing, but walking nevertheless. She disappeared behind the fabric, invisible other than the rustling of the curtain. The blush on her face, and the insistent grasp of her fingers around the skirt was the proof for the absence of her panties. I assumed she left them on the rack. But I decided to risk flying closer to the sun. "Why are you still wearing your bra," I said.

"That needs to go as well?" she questioned, only to receive a stiff, unforgiving nod in response. She ducked her head, but walked behind the screen nonetheless.

She was out once more after another round of fumbling, in a visual that would be enough to trigger arousal in a rock. Her tits squeezed by the tight grasp of the chest area, the lines mysteriously alluding to the treasure underneath, her nipples shouting their presence proudly. "Excellent," I said. "You are an amazing model, Nicole," I said, once again rewarding her for her good behavior. "Why don't you walk back to the set so we can continue our business."

She followed my command, once again without a complaint, cycling through the poses, though in every pause, her hands found the hem of the dress, pulling down obsessively to ensure nothing was revealed. I said nothing to prevent it, because that action had a side effect she failed to notice. With each pull, the dress was getting lower, enhancing the cleavage she was sporting. I decided to use it to the maximum effect. "Remember the pose we took with the last dress, where you lean forward, surprised. Do it."

It was a testament of her obedience instinct that she followed my command without even a blink, one of her hands pointing the ground, the other pressing to her lips in a facsimile of naughty surprise, both arms pressing on the sides of her breasts, when combined with the angle, providing the perfect view for my attention. I was tempted to ask her to pull her dress even lower, but I was afraid that the spell would be broken if I push too hard.

Instead, I decided to use some reverse psychology. "Nicole, pull your dress up a bit, you are displaying too much cleavage for the pose." She looked down, only to blush into a painful red when she realized the extent of flesh she was showing. She tried to rise, but I was ready to prevent it. "Don't break the pose," I ordered. She kept the pose, but grabbed and pulled the dress until the cleavage turned downright modest. Just as I planned, I noted as I took a few more pictures. "Now, the same pose, but turn your back to me."

Distracted by the latest realization, she failed to realize just how shorter the skirt had become when she pulled to overcompensate for the cleavage. With the dress riding upwards, I was treated with the perfect view of her pussy, its shining wetness a good confirmation about her particular inclination of following orders. I took a few quick photos before ordering her to stand up for another, more conservative pose. I would have liked to continue in that pose, of course, but unfortunately, it wasn't worth the risk.

"I think we can call it a day," I said with a smile, noticing a discernible expression of disappointment passing through her face. Another sign that I wasn't the only one that enjoyed the proceedings. "You were an amazing model, Nicole, and an absolute delight to work with." I left the camera fixed on the tripod and took a few steps towards her. "Now why don't you give me a hug, it's traditional."

"If it's traditional," she murmured in reticence, standing passively as I walked towards them. Her arms rose, wrapping tight around my shoulder, and I put mine on the small of her back. I would have preferred to slid it under her skirt to molest her poorly covered bottom, but unfortunately, that wasn't a probability. Instead, I focused on the sensation of her breasts pressing against my chest, barely reduced by the soft fabric of the dress. It was a long hug, one that would be awkward if her hold was any looser, but with the mood she was in, it wasn't hard to guess I wasn't the only one enjoying it.

"Anyway," I said as I unwrapped my arms around her. "I need to process the photos, but we can go over them after the dinner, before I sent them out. Would that work for you?" She nodded. "Also," I asked. "I don't have any time to go out for a dinner. It wouldn't be a bother if I joined you for the dinner, right?" I received another nod, then she turned and climbed upwards. In her distracted state, she had managed to miss the effect it would have when she walked upstairs while wearing a short dress made shorter by her fixing, especially since her panties lay forgotten on my impromptu dressing room.

My new tenancy was going to be more fun than I had initially envisioned, I realized as I watched the amazing view my landlady created.


	12. Chapter 12

As Narcissa disappeared behind the door of the dressing room, I looked around, trying to spot the sales assistant. "Perfect," I murmured when I ascertained that she was away. I stood up and walked towards the door that was closed by Narcissa just a moment ago, hiding behind it as she changed. I pushed it open, not even bothering to knock, revealing Narcissa, who was trying to get out of her skirt, her shirt already on the ground. "Let me help you mother," I said, ignoring her expression of shock as I reached for her back, unhooking her bra with just a caress.

"Son, you scared me," she said, trembling as my fingers danced over her back. Her arms rose to catch her bra, which, without support, was sliding down, risking to reveal her body to my eyes. I would have stopped her from doing that, but decided to use the opportunity to take a step closer to her, and put my fingers over the zipper that was holding her skirt in place.

"Sorry, mom," I answered, aware that my expression didn't match my words at all. Not that Narcissa looked like she was paying attention to that, distracted by the slow clicks that filled the room as I dragged her zipper down in a deliberate slowness. "Since you are not familiar with the muggle-style clothing, I thought you might appreciate my help." My fingers dragged over her skin that was hidden under her skirt, while the said piece of cloth slid to its freedom and pooled around her feet.

"No-, of course not," she stammered in hurry, quick to inform me about the lack of her objection, like her quickening breath and aroused gaze wasn't enough, even when tinged with fear of getting caught.

"Good," I said as my fingers hooked around her panties, pulling them down slightly.

"Draco?" she murmured in confusion, looking at my fingers as I dragged her panties down. She looked like she would have preferred to grab it to prevent its descent, but I had taught her better than directly interfering with my actions. "Why are you removing them?"

"To make the dress fit better on you, of course," I answered. "You don't want ugly lines from your underwear to disrupt the beautiful sight this dress would provide, do you?"

"Of course not," she said in a manner that she doubtlessly thought as resigned, but from the mirror, I could see her slit glistening with arousal, telling me that her words were nothing more than a vain attempt to hide her excitement.

"Good, now let's get rid of the bra." I brought my hand over her chest, and pulled the bra off between her unresisting fingers, a move that left my arm wrapped around her, and she stood directly in front of me. Never one to miss such an opportunity, I pushed my hips forward until my erection was safely nested between her cheeks. It was tempting to push her forward until her tits were smashed against the mirror, impaling her mercilessly, but I held back. Instead, I whispered into her ear. "Look at the mirror."

She did, captivated by the view of her naked beauty, my body pressing against her from behind in a promise that begged to be fulfilled. And truthfully, I was tempted to do just that, enticed by the idea of taking the premier pureblood Narcissa Malfoy on the floor of a mundane department store, but I didn't want all the efforts that went to picking the dress to went to waste.

"Raise your arms," I ordered, my fingers closing around the red dress. She did so, her stretched body even more enticing than before. It was a real game of willpower to not to do anything sexual other than occasional grab or caress as I gently pulled the dress on her. "You look amazing," I murmured.

"Thanks, son," she murmured halfheartedly, captivated by her own reflection just like of her namesake. But in her case, it was justified, I noted even as I licked my lips to combat arousal-induced dryness. The little red dress wrapped around her to reveal her toned body for any onlooker's gaze. Even discounting its tightness, it had a thin but deep cleavage in the front, going until her belly, revealing the inner side of her breasts. The back of her dress was even worse, the emptiness went deep until her bottom, enroaching the area that should have belonged to her skirt enough to hint the absence of her panties, which was also short enough to protect her secret only when she was standing completely upright. On top of all, the silky fabric of her dress was extremely thin, not doing anything to hide neither her erect nipples, nor her rising arousal down there.

I let my hands roam over her body freely, mounting a lingering invasion over her inviting cleavage. It was a real display of willpower, denying the request of fingers to delve deep into her chest to sank into her inviting flesh once more. It was tempting to push the short dress up to create a convenient access for me, and take her right in the dressing room. But that would have wasted a lot more interesting opportunities afforded by the setting. "The dress is perfect. Let's go," I said simply instead.

I watched as a wave of disappointment spread through her face, but she said nothing, just reached towards her actual clothes. Clothes that I vanished before she could grab them. "Draco?" she said, confused.

"You're already dressed, aren't you, mother? Why would you need those scraps?" I said, enjoying the blossoming of panic, once again accompanied by arousal, replacing her momentary disappointment.

"But I can't go out like that," she said, her arms wrapping around her breasts to fend off the imaginary onlookers. But even while saying that, her excitement was showing through.

"You can and you will," I said, taking a step towards her which forced her to look up. "Because I said so." Then, without waiting for an answer, I grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the dressing booth. She yelped in surprise, but put no resistance, obediently following.

There was a small complication waiting for us outside. The sales assistant had returned to the floor while we were discussing the best way of putting the dress, putting her a prime location to watch us leaving the dressing room together. Her eyes popped open in shock, no doubt coming to some accurate, but likely a bit excessive, conclusions about what had been going on in the dressing room.

I didn't bother to act apologetic, choosing to smirk at her smugly. She blushed deeply. She was supposed to kick us out of the shop, or giving us a stern warning at least, but no words left her mouth. It wasn't surprising. It was very difficult to stick to the store policy when it stood between you and several thousand in commission. Still, her silence tickled my imagination, and I decided to test just how far I could push her. "Can we get several pairs stilettos to try, mostly black and red," I said, and she scuttled, taking the opportunity to get away from the situation as quick as she could, leaving me alone with Narcissa.

"Draco," she pleaded as I gently pushed her on the chair. "What are you doing?"

I spent a second to enjoy the view created by her dress, which turned out to be too short to properly cover her while she was sitting. "Why mom, we need to find some shoes for you of course. We can't go dancing if you are barefoot."

"But, what about my…" she said, her voice dwindling half-way. "What about my panties?"

"What about them," I said, acting surprised. "Is there a problem?" I added even as I placed my hand on her leg, sliding upwards until my fingers reached her wet lips. "Mother!" I said in a mock surprise. "Did you know that your panties were absent? How could such a disgrace happen" She opened her mouth to reply, but I was ready, my lips clamping to hers, arresting her words. "But don't worry, as a good son, I will gladly take the task of protecting your modesty in their absence!" My fingers slid inside her, a cry run off her lips, reverberating in me even as my rhythmic invasion explored her tunnel. Then, I pulled as quick as I started, leaving Narcissa fumbling to cover herself.

She barely managed to push through the border of being presentable before the sales assistant arrived, but with her red face and messy demeanor, there wasn't a chance that the sales assistant miss what had gone through in her absence. However, she did the smart thing and acted completely obvious, ensuring to receive a generous tip. None of us were inclined to speak. They weren't because of the thick air of awkwardness in the room, and I wasn't because I was busy enjoying their discomfort, even as my fingers danced over Narcissa's shoulders, naked other than her thin straps. The assistant crouched in front of Narcissa, a shoe already on her hand, while I was looming above Narcissa, watching the reaction of both of them.

"Could you raise your foot," the assistant asked, and Narcissa did so, her hands tight around her skirt in an effort to hide lack of her underwear. A vain effort, I assumed based on the slight widening of her eyes. But once again, she proved that the customer experience was more important to her than modesty, helping Narcissa try several different shoes without uttering a word. Even my hands, growing progressively more adventurous around Narcissa's breasts, caressing the skin left unprotected by the dress without the slightest attempt to hide my actions. The assistant left as silent as she arrived, though her steps quickened quite a bit when a small whimper escaped her mouth when I sank my fingers aggressively, disappearing around the corner.

"Did you enjoy your shopping trip, mother?" I asked, letting my hands finally invade her glorious breasts, sliding under the deficient cover of her dress.

"Why are you doing this, Draco?" she murmured, her words conveying helplessness, a message that wasn't shared by the tone of her voice, reverberating thick in an unmet desire, proving it wasn't just me that enjoyed the last part of the shopping. She enjoyed being on display as much as I enjoyed displaying her.

"I'm doing it, because I enjoy it, mother. Do I need another reason?"

She opened her mouth, but her confused expression told me that she was yet to decide what to say. There were more useful things her mouth could do, such as communicating her pleasure, so I squeezed her breasts hard, my fingers pushing into her firm flesh. She moaned, the pleasure finally overriding her previous attempts of maintaining control. I could've blocked the sound with a silencing charm, but I was curious about whether the assistant would arrive to break us up, and how Narcissa would act in case of such interruption.

I was quite disappointed when the assistant didn't come back to the upstairs during the next minute. The solution, escalating even further. I pulled back without warning, leaving Narcissa blinking in the sudden change of flow. I sat down to the nearby couch, one with the added benefit of being directly visible to anyone that would climb the stairs.

Narcissa looked at me questioningly, and I patted my lap, calling her closer, unzipping my pants for the good measure, naked view of my cock leaving no question about for what I was inviting her for. "Draco, we can't do it here," she said, but I chose to categorize her complaint as empty words considering she was already walking towards me in quick steps. I said nothing, just leaned back, enhancing the display of my shaft. A display that she was very much interested in, considering that her eyes were stuck on it, akin to a starving woman observing an all-can-you-eat buffet.

She stood in front of me, preparing to fell on her knees, but I had other ideas. I grabbed her arm and made her turn, then pulled her on my lap, my girth sliding easily inside her well-lubricated tunnel. "Draco, we can't do it here," she tried to argue, her sentence broken half-way as my shaft invaded her tunnel.

"Don't be silly, mother," I said as I pulled her dress down, revealing her tits to any observer that might come across. Though considering how revealing the dress was, one could argue that not much had changed. "Of course we can, what can stop us."

"But what if someone comes upstairs and sees us?"

"You should make sure to keep your voice low then," I added before clamping my hands on her waist, using my hold to push my cock even deeper inside her. Of course, I knew she lacked the ability to control herself under a determined assault, but that did little to blunt the strength I put behind it.

Soon, I could hear someone climbing up the stairs, a woman if I was correct in identifying the sound as the heeled shoes connecting with the wooden stairs. A second later, head of the sales assistant popped into my field of vision, affirming my conclusion about the gender of our uninvited guest. Uninvited only for a limited understanding of the word though, considering the amount of effort I put to summon her upstairs. "What is going on here!" she whispered in an urgent tone.

Narcissa yelped in panic, her hands rising to cover her tits to limit her nakedness, though how effective it would be when her slit, sopping wet, skewered with my thickness, was still on full display. Still, it was a moot point considering I grabbed her wrists, pulling her arms back to give a beautiful arch to her chest, enhancing the beauty of her breasts.

Seeing her initial warning was not effective, the assistant walked closer to us and repeated her panicked question. "Please, sir, you can't do it here!" But her gaze told a different story, lingering at the point where Narcissa's body merged with mine.

The interesting mixture of panic, obligation, and arousal she displayed was too attractive to ignore. "I have no intention of stopping before I get my release," I said even as I held her gaze captive in mine. The bloom of panic on her face was positively delightful, an expression that was sure to find its match on Narcissa's face.

"But-" she murmured, lost, before I cut her halfway, which somehow increased the intensity of her arousal.

"If you want us to stop, why don't you help this slut finish her job," I said, a hard spank to her bottom that left her flesh rippling removing even the slightest doubt about who I referred as the slut.

The rise of arousal on her face was unmistakable, but even with that, she looked like she was about to reject the proposition until the combination of my relentless assault and the mortification she felt under the situation finally broke Narcissa's control over her voice, and her voice, unmistakable for anything other than pure lust, filled the room. Moreover, Narcissa was unable to cover her mouth with her hand, simply because her wrists were still tightly imprisoned in my grip, preventing the simple solution of pressing her hand over her lips to suppress her voice.

The sales assistant looked at me helplessly, begging for me to stop, or failing that, letting her hands free so that Narcissa cover her mouth. I had no intention of doing either. More than a minute passed like that, where she just watched in shock as I continued to slam into Narcissa. Then, I decided to force her hand and started fucking Narcissa harder, which made her moans even louder. The assistant, helpless, chose the only option she had, and walked towards us in rapid steps until she was directly in front of Narcissa, who was too busy moaning repeatedly. Despite her hesitant expression, she pressed her hand over Narcissa's mouth, suppressing her voice to a manageable degree.

Minutes passed like that, and her initial shock slowly drained away, to be replaced by a helpless resignation. She was shocked because she was doing her best to suppress the voice of a woman who was being rammed by another man in the middle of her shop. Resignation replaced it because it likely occurred her that she was stuck there with us until the end if she didn't want to explain to her bosses how she failed to prevent a couple of customers from having sex in the middle of the shop. Of course, neither emotion was long-lived, both replaced by desire soon after. After all, it was hard to regulate your own passion when you were trying to silence a woman that was doing her best trying to shatter windows with her passion, slammed continuously by a rich and reasonably handsome man.

The first forfeit she made was her hand, pressing on Narcissa's waist in a fleeting touch in a way that a casual onlooker would assume to balance. But I know what it was, she was testing us to see how we would react. I acted like I hadn't noticed it, and Narcissa was far too gone to notice it. After a brief indecision, she decided to continue, said hand starting to travel over Narcissa's skin, hard to notice at first, but picking speed soon after. Soon, her hand was exploring Narcissa's delectable breasts, her hesitancy burning quicker than summer grass.

"Now we're talking," I murmured a minute later, when her hand finally traveled down until her fingers were around my balls, massaging them softly. However, with one of her hands still pressing against Narcissa's lips, the position wasn't exactly comfortable, forcing her to stretch both sides.

For a moment, she looked around but came empty, then our eyes met, hers beaming mischievously. Her hand pulled away from my balls only to slid under her skirt. When it came down once more, it was dragging her panties along, stained with her arousal. She shifted gaze to Narcissa and whispered. "Open wide." Her mind addled with pleasure, Narcissa wasn't in a condition to deny an order regardless of the source. Her mouth opened wide, allowing our unexpected guest to stuff her panties to Narcissa's mouth. The glee on the assistant's face was clear, enjoying the rough treatment she was employing on one of the women that bossed her around every day.

"Finally," she murmured, her earlier hesitation long lost, and bent down until her lips were hovering just an inch from where my shaft was subjecting Narcissa to a sweet torture. Her tongue darted out, caressing the bottom of my shaft, compounding my pleasure, but not as much as a minute later, when her lips clamped on my balls, licking, sucking, and otherwise teasing without a mercy.

I was already building up for a nice climax, so when Narcissa clamped tight around my shaft with her own arousal, she pushed me far too close to my release. I was tempted to fill Narcissa with my release, but decided that our surprise guest earned her share instead. Instead, I decided to reward our surprise participant. I let go of Narcissa's wrists, using my hands, now free of any obligation, to force her to stand, and the assistant lost no time before wrapping her lips around my girth. That proved to be enough, and I started filling her mouth.

I sat there, her lips wrapped around my shaft as she drank every last drop, while Narcissa bustled around, trying to make herself nominally presentable after removing her makeshift gag. "Such a good, selfless service," I said as I stood up, making a note to leave a generous tip as I pay for our purchases.


	13. Chapter 13

I decided it was finally the time for yet another date with Hermione as I extracted myself from Narcissa's bed, leaving her unconscious after a long but enjoyable follow-up for our shopping activities. I stopped by the potions cabinet to pick up a Pepper-up to stave off the exhaustion, as impaling Narcissa to the unconsciousness was getting harder and harder as she adapted to the pleasurable sensations of our bedroom activities. I would have preferred to visit Hermione the next day rather than directly after the session with Narcissa, but September first was getting closer, and I wanted to have a couple of real encounter with Hermione before the wards of Hogwarts started to impede on my mobility. Though I was enthusiastic for the school to start for the first time in my life, more about the access I would have for the spectacular beauties that populated it, such as Susan Bones, Lavender Brown, and Daphne Greengrass.

Vitalized by the effects of the Pepper-up, I took a quick shower and dressed before apparating to the attic of Grimmauld Place, where I met the first snag to my plan. "Young master," Kreacher greeted. "The mudblood is not at the house at the moment," Kreacher said in a slightly worried tone of a butler that failed to bring his master's tea at the exact temperature, affirming my idea of taking him to my service as soon as this mess was over. A butler that could predict and prepare for my whims without the slightest squeamish was a valuable asset. It wouldn't be difficult to convince Potter to pass the bond, as they never properly worked together, a direct result of my interference.

"Don't worry, it's not your fault," I said, and saw him relax just a bit with the lack of punishment. "Do you know where she is though, and is she alone?" I asked.

"The mudblood is alone," Kreacher answered. "She left for a walk after having a huge fight with the filthy-blood and blood-traitor."

"Did she now?" I murmured, already running a couple of alternative scenarios based on that change. I was planning to tease her with another dream sequence, but with such a good opportunity, it would be a pity not to move to the next stage of the plan. The fake dreams were fun, but only in the way a snack was delicious, but ultimately unsatisfying compared to the full meal of a real conquest. "Do you know where she is?"

"Yes, young master," Kreacher answered before describing the usual path she took for her midnight walks, another facet to his competence.

"Thanks, Kreacher," said before apparating away, apparating a few hundred meters away from the path he had described, not wanting to alarm her with the distinctive sound of it. Kreacher's information turned out to be accurate, as I managed to find her in less than a minute, not even needing to cast a spell.

I would have liked to say my heart boomed with excitement as soon as my eyes met with her figure, or at least my pants become uncomfortably tight with anticipation, but that would have been an exaggeration. She was dressed boringly, a skirt that reached to her ankles, flowing wide, accompanied by an equally loose blouse. Even the color was uninspired, a boring brown, adding insult to the injury. I couldn't wait until dragging her along to a shopping expedition, putting her figure in clothes that would give justification to her traits. It promised to be fun both for the moment and for its aftermath.

Under the cover of the invisibility cloak, the opportunity to tease her was too tempting to ignore. I carefully sneaked behind her so she wouldn't see the flash of the spell, and hit her with a strong compulsion. She stopped with an unexpected shudder, then looked around searchingly for someone, but the park was empty. Even with that, she looked like she was about to walk away, but a bench caught her attention. She carefully examined her surroundings once more even as a blush crept to her cheeks, then walked towards the bench with most concealment with rapid steps.

She sat down, her hands already caressing her breasts over her blouse, showing the spell already starting to work. Normally, it was very hard to make people act through compulsions, especially strong-willed people like Hermione, but there was a couple of factors that slanted the equation to my favor. She was annoyed and frustrated, creating a fertile ground for the spell to latch. More importantly, she was quite sure that she was alone, meaning she didn't have the slightest suspicion for a case of foul play.

It was tempting to watch her as she tried to build up confidence for a public act of masturbation, but I needed to hurry up if I wanted to set the other players before she finished. I cast another spell on her, this one to reduce her situational awareness, and teleported away.

I appeared in one of the snatcher centers, where Voldemort's cannon fodder rested between the missions where they hunted for the people that triggered the taboo on his name. A rapid rain of imperiuses later, all four men that were hanging in the lobby were under my tight control.

I walked in the detention center, casting a few spells to change the environment to a shape that would suit my needs better, not to mention preventing other detainees to perceive what would go there minutes later. Then, I created a portkey and ordered them to hold on, not wanting to test their ability to apparate while under magical control. Also, they were under strict orders to keep silent, not to alert Hermione with our arrival, before my order. After a twisting pull in my guts, we were once again near Hermione, this time walking on the same path she took minutes earlier. The same path that would bring in front of the bench she was currently occupying.

I was glad that the men I brought was already under magical control, and slated to lose the night's memories after the plan was over. After all, I was a possessive bastard, and wanted to be the only one that saw the image of Hermione with her skirt bunched around her waist and her panties around her ankles, her fingers teasing her knob rapidly for an orgasm that proved too stubborn to arrive.

"Begin," I whispered, initiating them to follow the earlier orders they had received. The snatchers started walking down the street, laughing and cheering like a bunch of drunk hooligans, the only difference is that they were wearing robes instead of football shirts.

The expression on Hermione's face was delicious as their commotion had broken through the spells I cast to keep her unaware. She was frozen with indecision as she found herself in a compromising position in front of four strangers, and the robes they were wearing, marking them as wizards, didn't make things any easier. Her hand froze midway, trying to decide between pulling her panties and reaching for her wand.

That indecision cost her the only chance she had as the snatchers noticed her presence, triggering the next part of my orders. One of the snatchers pulled his wand at her sight. "Look, a muggle whore," he exclaimed, followed by a petrification spell, clumsily cast. But even if it was clumsy and weak, I expected it to hit and incapacitate her.

Things worked differently than I envisioned. Even when caught flatfooted by the sudden turn of events, she managed to dodge the attack by leaning on the side, grabbing her wand simultaneously. At that moment, I thought that my plan had been screwed. She was going to apparate out, screwing up my efforts. But, surprisingly, a stunner left her wand instead, downing one of her attackers.

I let out a relaxed sigh as I raised my wand. Even against one to three, and with her panties around her ankles to impede her mobility, I wasn't willing to bet for three deadbeats against her. I took aim, and a disarming hex left my wand at the same time another stunner left hers. The spell was already in halfway and when she noticed it. She tried to dodge, but her panties delayed her enough to keep her on the path of the spell. Even then, she managed to raise a shield, impressively strong considering split second she had to concentrate, but it wasn't a match to a spell from the Elder Wand. The red light broke through the barrier, and her wand flew away, and a follow-up spell wrapped her in conjured ropes, deliciously helpless.

Still, it was impressive that she said nothing as her attackers circled around her, brainstorming explicitly about the naughty thing they would do to punish the uppity mudblood. It didn't need a mention that they couldn't actually do anything. She was my reward, and even these drones with their mind under the domination of my magic weren't allowed to touch her. They continued to follow my orders and put the other portkey on her, teleporting her to the cell I had prepared earlier. I was about to apparate after picking up her wand when I noticed another thing she inadvertently left. Her panties. I put them on my pocket as well before apparating back to the corridor.

I watched as the snatcher left her, still talking about all the fun things they were about to do to her after finishing the paperwork. I waited in the cell, still under the cover of the invisibility cloak, watching as her brave face collapsed into panic and worry when she thought she was free of observers.

I watched her for more than ten minutes, the passage of time amplifying her concerns. Then, I quietly walked away until I was at the end of the corridor, and cast silent stunners on all other prisoners that were being held there. They were already sleeping and I had spells to prevent them from noticing, but there was no harm in extra insurance.

Only then, I removed the cloak and started walking through the corridor, only to come to a sudden stop in front of her cell, an exaggerated shock coloring my tone. "Granger," I gasped. I suspected I was overacting, but she lacked the attention to notice it, so all was well.

"Malfoy," she replied, a shock no less than mine coloring her voice as well, though hers included a strong dose of defeat, no doubt thinking it was the end, now that she had been recognized. Not an incorrect assumption based on her knowledge, but things were different than she had thought.

"Please tell me those idiots hadn't recognized you," I asked in a tone of urgency.

"No," she managed to stammer, blindsided by my question. A second later, she gathered herself enough to add bitterly. "Don't worry, you would have all the glory of catching me."

"Good," I answered, ignoring her vitriol in favor of unlocking the door. "Then there won't be any alarm when I arrange for you to be let go."

"What?!"

"I said, good, there won't be any alarm when I let you go," I said, drawing my wand.

She flinched as soon as I turned my wand towards her, but true to her personality, she prioritized information over the risk of bodily harm. "Why are you letting me go?"

"To make sure you guys continue working against the Dark Lord, of course," I said in a matter-of-fact tone as I walk closer to her. The shock on her face was understandable, hearing those treasonous words from the lips that sprouted only praises for the pureblood cause. Of course, she didn't know the change in the drivers. "You, trying to prevent Vol-" she started, but I interrupted her by pressing my finger on her lips, happy to note her trembling sensually at my touch despite the situation. My training was paying dividends.

"Don't say his name," I ordered in a sharp tone, the same tone that I used in her fake dreams. Another shiver that went through her skin, this time even more pronounced, was a beautiful detail.

She kept silent as long as my finger was on her lips, but spat out after I pulled it away. "I'm not afraid of him," she said rebelliously.

I sighed resignedly. "Good for you, remind me to buy some chocolate as a reward," I deadpanned, amused at her sudden flare of anger, glad that I was yet to untie her. "However, that's not the reason. He had set up a taboo to his name, and they pinpoint and send snatchers whenever they detect his name being said."

"So that's how they kept finding us," she murmured to herself, distracted enough not to react as the ropes disappearing around her. "But why are you helping me instead of bringing me to V-" she said, only to get interrupted by my finger once more, and another shudder. "Instead of bringing me to You-Know-Who, and reaping the rewards," she amended.

I was satisfied that she was calm enough to listen to me rather than trying to wrestle for my wand. "Simply, I have no reason to, I want him gone as much as you do," I answered.

"You?" she said, rightful disbelief in her tone. "After spending years as a Junior Death Eater, spouting all that nonsense, you expect me to believe that you changed after taking his mark and spending a year trying to kill Dumbledore."

Her comment was very accurate, yet inconvenient, so I decided to spin a tragic story. "Imagine a childhood where your father talked about their glorious political movement that supposed to fix the world, only to came to an end with a tragic mishap and treason. Then, add a lot of friends on that equation, all raised on the belief that they were superior to others, and pile them into the same house which rest of the students more than happy to treat as a hive of evil." She opened her mouth, about to say something, but I continued. "Then imagine that promised leader returning behind the veil of death, and feeling the elation for a while, only to learn that he is a madman that cared nothing other than destruction, and torturing his followers for the slightest mishap, all while following a pointlessly genocidal agenda."

"But still-" Hermione said, but I cut her once more.

"Then imagine the father you respected so much fucking up, said and said so-called Lord deciding to punish him by tasking him to kill a man even he feared to meet in the battlefield," I finished in a depressed voice.

I was proud of the ridiculous story that I spun, especially since she was looking at me with sympathy rather than fear. My earlier preparation played an important role in her quick acceptance though. "Why didn't you ask for Dumbledore's help if you wanted to get away?" she asked.

"Yes, after all, he has a great record of protecting people, right?" I said derisively. "Just ask Longbottoms, Prewitts, Potters, and many others." I could see her getting ready for rebuttal, but I just continued. "And it doesn't matter. Even if he was able to protect me, my mother would have paid for it, tortured and killed as a lesson for all his followers." The answer stole the wind off her sails.

Before she could answer, the door to the cells had opened, the marking the second stage of my plan. "Quick," ordered as I pushed my pants down and pulled my cock free, which was already hard thanks to the earlier view. "Start sucking, we need a cover for why I'm spending that much time with you."

She looked at me in shock, unable to process the sudden change. I pushed her shoulder, forcing her to her knees. She opened her mouth to say something, but I leveraged the opportunity to push my cock inside her mouth, my hands strong at the back of her head to prevent her from pulling back. Frozen in indecision, she was unable to react before my puppet arrived at her cell. "Interrogation seems to be going well, sir!" he said, followed by a mechanical laugh before his departure. I kept sliding my shaft into her mouth until I heard the door closing, then pulled. "that went well-" I started, but this time I was the one that was interrupted with a slap. Still, I counted it as a success, as it was a limp slap with no conviction behind, and infinitely better than a knee between my legs, what I would receive if I did it without all that preparation.

"What the hell are you thinking you are doing!" she exclaimed in shock, her jaw wide with shock.

"I was making sure those idiots don't have a reason to suspect why I was staying for so long," I answered, dragging my fingers on my cheek absentminded. It was an interesting development, receiving a crude physical response like that. Normally, it would have sent me to a deep rage, with my plans to make her pay already in place, it only amused me slightly. "Not to mention I will have an excuse to let you go in the morning."

"Morning!" she exclaimed. "No, I need to go now, Ron and Harry would worry sick if I don't go back."

I looked at her sharply. "I don't care, their momentary worry is not worth compromising my position here. A night's worry wouldn't kill anyone, and that's assuming they even notice your disappearance."

"At least let me send a note to them," she begged, grabbing my arm. I was interested to note that her touch lingered comfortably on my biceps.

"And that would work well? Dear Harry, I'm captured by death eaters and currently held in prison, but don't worry, Malfoy is helping me. Sit tight and see you at the breakfast." No answer left her mouth, but her blush was enough to tell me she was well aware of its ridiculousness. "Anyway, it would be best if you get comfortable, we still have hours to kill," I added.

"Why don't you just go and wait in the lobby then," she asked with a blush, her gaze sliding towards my shaft in an increasing repeat.

"I can," I said with a shrug, showing a lack of care. "But if I go, the others will leverage the occasion to visit you. More than one was talking about taming the naughty whore that dared to fight back despite asking for it." Her gaze fell to the ground at the reminder of the exact circumstances she was caught. "But if you would prefer the attention of a bunch of lowlifes that are willing to work as the muscle for the Death Eaters, I can always accommodate," I added, making a show of turning my back, but stopped when I felt her hand wrapping around my biceps, desperation powering her grip.

"I thought so," I said as I turned back, enjoying the way she trembled as she saw my excited expression, even as she struggled to her own excitement.


	14. Chapter 14

I didn't even bother hiding the smug expression that spread through my face as I enjoyed the desperate hold her fingers maintained around my arm. It was amusing to watch her trying to regulate her expression, doing her best to look just desperate, but her excitement was too much to obscure. It was a challenge she lost before it even started. Conditioned with the countless dream sequence, her flesh begged for my touch, and there was nothing her mind could do to reject it.

"Are you sure you're prepared for what's about to happen," I asked even as I got rid of my robe, wanting to be able to move easier. "They will be occasionally patrolling the corridor, and it needs to look convincing, which will make me act rougher than I want." My words were complete bogus, of course, as I intended to teach her what rough meant in long-term, but she needed a more training for now.

"Do you have to," she murmured, but that didn't prevent her from looking with a barely hidden hunger as I got rid of my pants and my underwear completely.

"Of course I'm, it wouldn't be convincing otherwise. Now, get rid of your blouse."

"What!" she exclaimed loudly, her voice was still laced with panic despite my own nakedness. But she wasn't able to say anything else, because I pushed her on her knees once more as soon as the first word left her mouth.

My cock was already between her lips, pushing back and forth when the door to the corridor opened, and another mind-controlled guard walked into the corridor. "It looks like the interrogation is going slow, sir," he said cheerfully as the imperius commanded. "Hurry up, the boys have a few questions they want to ask as well."

That comment went a long way to push her closer to a panic attack, which made it even more pleasurable as I subjected her lips to a rough treatment. "Good, but tell that this one might turn out to know more than usual. I decided to interrogate her more thoroughly. I suspect she might have some links to the resistance."

"All night long, sir?" the guard said, much to Hermione's shock, and my enjoyment.

"Probably, so tell them not to be too excited." With that, the guard left, leaving us alone. Even after I heard the door closing, I pumped several more times before pulling back. "You see the problem. They are quite enthusiastic to visit you, and I need to delay them without making it seem suspicious. Your lack of clothes is a must to make it look convincing. You're beautiful, but even you couldn't keep me busy until morning with just your lips."

"But, they can't see me naked," she murmured in panic, failing to comment on the last part of my comment. "They just can't."

"Okay," I murmured. "Then let's go with an alternative." I pulled the Elder Wand from its holder, and waved it once, conjuring a large, ornate bed while simultaneously expanding the room. It was a difficult, but not impossible task for an ordinary adult wizard, and doing it without a visible strain was suitably impressive without being suspicious.

"How did you do that?" she asked in shock, focusing on my magical ability instead of all the possibilities suggested by the presence of a bed. "Space expansion charms are hard enough, but you managed to do it together with an extraordinarily difficult conjuration."

It was the time to play the hidden genius. I shrugged dismissively. "It's a bit tricky, but not something I would exactly classify as difficult. After all, I could do it since the fifth year."

"Impossible," she countered. "If that was true, then why did you barely scraped E's in your charms and transfiguration OWLs. The spell you just displayed was enough to get O's in NEWT exams."

"I'm a Slytherin," I countered with a smug smile.

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, blindsided with the comment she assumed to be a curveball. She might have gotten the implication in a more ordinary setting, but sitting in a cell an ambush, not to mention and sucking the dick of one of your mortal enemies was quite far from ordinary. And her constant dreams about said enemy didn't help the situation any.

I waited a few seconds, wondering whether she would be able to get it, but she looked at me blankly. I decided to spell it out for her. "What are the supposed characteristics of the Slytherin students?"

"Arrogance," Hermione spat out. I couldn't help but laugh at her comment, which caused my naked, and fully erect shaft to jump up and down in an attention-grabbing way. "And please put your … thing in back in your pants," she added, but didn't sound very torn up about it, or stop looking.

"For the last one, no, I won't because the others might pay another visit any moment," I said even as I kicked out of my shoes, and sat on the bed. "And about the first one… Technically a good answer, considering the attitude of the most in my beloved house," I said, laughing in good humor. "Why don't you take another stab in guessing," I said even as I got rid of the rest of my clothes, leaving only my holster around my wrist, fully aware that she was watching my frame hungrily, failing to hide her interest.

"Cunning, ambition, and resourcefulness," she recited.

"Exactly," I nodded. "And do you know what is not cunning?" I smirked in satisfaction. "Displaying your full magical potential and your limits in a public way where everyone could reach. Why would I do that and weaken my hand."

"But, the grades are important!" she answered heatedly.

I shook my head in disbelief. I knew that she had her priorities skewed in terms of schoolwork, but trying to defend the importance of schoolwork in a prison, while looking to a naked body she was about to be acquainted in a very intimate way… It was impressive in its own weird way.

Still, I answered her. "No, it's not," I countered. "Not to us purebloods at least. The job we get is determined through our family connections, and the grades have absolutely no effect on it, for good and ill. I could get full O's in NEWTs, and it wouldn't open one door that was already closed to me."

From the stormy expression on her face, I could see that she was preparing for a retort against the statement I had little interest defending, especially compared to some other activities we could have done. Thankfully, the guards opened the door for their next patrol, giving me the opportunity to change the subject. "Quick," I called, reaching for her hand. Reflexively, she pointed it toward me. I pulled her towards the bed quite hard the moment my fingers touched her wrist.

She ended up in front of me. I shifted to the edge of the bed, then grabbed her head and pushed her down to my shaft once more. "Open wide," I ordered, and this time, she complied, opening her lips and swallowing my shaft without a protest. Of course, her compliance didn't survive when I forced her to go deeper, tickling the start of her throat, forcing her to gag. Distracted with the pleasure, I hadn't paid attention to the ridiculous questions of the guard, choosing to focus on that mattered instead. The guard walked away, but I continued pumping furiously.

And more interestingly, she complied with only minimal protest. She tapped my leg furiously, but instead of letting her go, I intensified the pressure she was under. A stronger push later, I ended up skewering deep into her throat, causing her to gag and wheeze helplessly. She tried to push herself away, but my hold was too strong for her, and more importantly, her pushes were weak, reluctant, proving the effectiveness of my preparations. Her own body was betraying her as I subjected her the most humiliating moment of her life, and her predominant feeling was arousal, even when she gagged helplessly around my cock.

The initial plan was to pull away before cumming, to tease her with the probability that her reward was just around the corner. But it was impossible to stick to the plan when I had the plump lips of a beautiful yet arrogant woman around the base of my cock while the tip had disappeared in the depths of her throat, swallowing it helplessly despite her discomfort. I did the only logical thing, and filled her throat with my seed.

"What the hell-" she started between coughs, spraying my seed everywhere including her clothes. But I didn't need to answer her question, because her loud voice triggered another patrol. The door opened, intensifying the shock she felt from an already complicated moment. I decided to use the opportunity by pulling her on the bed. Then I removed her shoes and pulled the cover on just as the guard appeared in front of the cell.

"Is everything all right, sir?" the guard asked, looking around.

"Of course it is," I answered, even as I grabbed her shirt, starting to pull it up. "We were just starting the next part of our interrogation." She twisted her neck to look at me. There was a glare that supposed to intimidate me, but, unfortunately for her, her lips, stained and bruised, wasn't exactly the best prop to support, so she just ended up awakening my erection once more. "Play along," I whispered. "They need to see the evidence that you're naked underneath. Otherwise, they might suspect."

I did have other ways to convince the guard about her nakedness without removing her clothes, such as conjuring copies on the ground, but she failed to come up with one in her distracted state, reluctantly complying as I pulled her blouse off, then threw it on the middle of the room, in a very visible location. "I can see that the interrogation is going well, sir," the guard said, but kept his place after I subtly gestured him to stay. His presence would help me immensely for the next steps.

"Heir Malfoy," the guard said with his slimy voice. "It's the time for evening checklist sign up. Would you like to get out and do the check." His gaze fell on her. "I can take care of the prisoner while you're away."

She stiffened at his words, only to relax a bit when I patted her belly comfortingly under the sheets. It was good that she could find comfort under my touch even under this twisted situation. It made things much easier. "No need," I answered the guard. "I trust you can handle it." Of course, I didn't want to dismiss him, therefore removing the incentive of fear from Hermione's actions. "Why don't read through the list, so that I can confirm verbally."

He started going through the list, ensuring his forbidding presence as I continued to work on her clothes. "Hey," she exclaimed when my fingers found the zipper of her skirt, pulling it down hard, only to fell silent as I nodded towards the guard, reminding her about the 'risk' we were operating under.

"Is something wrong, sir?" he asked.

"Nope," I answered nonchalantly even as I forced her skirt down, which she accepted passively. It suffered the same trajectory with her blouse after removal, leaving her bra as the only piece of clothing she was wearing, her panties lost in the conflict which ended up in her capture. It was a good opportunity to tease her, so I brought my finger trailing up her leg, passing over the point where the edge of her panties supposed to be. "Naughty," I whispered into her ear. "Who would have guessed the resident bookworm of the Gryffindor tower walked around without panties."

Her blush deepened, though the presence of my hands, dancing over her skin, specifically on the area that was supposed to be covered by her panties, had an important role on her reaction as well. "I lost them," she murmured, but she hadn't sound too beat up about that fact.

"Interesting," I murmured even as one of my hands trailed her spine, climbing determinedly towards the hook of her bra. "I wonder what exactly you were doing that resulted in that interesting loss," I whispered, reminding her the moment she was masturbating in the middle of an abandoned park.

"Nothing," she murmured in a tone that would have failed to convince me even if I hadn't seen her sitting on a bench, her panties around her ankles as she searched for a climax.

"Very convincing," I murmured mockingly, but she didn't answer, as she had more important issues to attend, such as my arm, wrapping her waist to pull her tight against my body, which ended up with my shaft lodged comfortably between her cheeks. She struggled to get away, but her movements were so weak that even my limp hold was enough to hold her in place. Her struggles just ended up making me even hornier.

But it wasn't the only way her distraction had cost her. Distracted by my shaft, she failed to notice my fingers fiddling with her bra until it was too late, leaving her to watch in shock as her last piece of clothing followed the same path and fell to the ground, under the watchful eyes of the guard.

"Good," I whispered into her ear. "Now, trying to look like you're enjoying the moment," I said, even as I caressed her stomach gently, causing her to shiver helplessly.

"What are you talking about," she moaned in a way that tried to reflect anger, but betrayed by her body which enjoyed my treatment immensely.

"That was a good start," I murmured mockingly, even as my hand slowly moved upward, drawing closer to her breasts. "We need to convince them about what's going on under the covers, to prevent them from getting suspicious."

"I understand," she murmured, her words turning into a moan halfway, one that left her looking mortified afterward. "You see, I'm doing it," she whispered urgently, trying to pass her natural reaction as acting. "Just stay away from my…" she said, but failing to complete her words.

I had to struggle not to burst out laughing at her hilarious reaction. We were in the same bed, naked, and my cock was currently hiding between her cheeks snugly, and she felt to shy to name her privates. "Your what?" I asked, even as my hand reached her breasts, gently caressing their edges. "Your breasts," I murmured before shifting to their center, gently flicking her nipples. "Maybe you're feeling adverse to the possibility of me touching your beautiful nipples," I added, even as I flicked it once more, this time even harder.

"Yes," she moaned helplessly.

"It's the nipples I need to stay away, then," I whispered into her ear. "Good to know that you're okay with this, then," I added, before my hand reached to her knob, rubbing roughly.

An expression of total panic popped on her face as her lips opened to bring an admonishment that was sure to be loud. However, I didn't want to hear her complains. I wanted something better, like a string of moans that escaped her mouth due to pure pleasure. I slid two of my fingers inside her slit, catching her surprised, while the other sank deep into the flesh of her breast.

The results were as spectacular as I hoped them to be. Caught under a sudden and unexpected rush of pleasure, the only thing she could do was to let out a primal cry that echoed in the room, filled with pleasure, begging for more. "Excellent," I said even as I pushed my fingers deeper into her slit, enough to brush her barrier. "You're being really convincing, keep it up," I asked.

Somehow, she managed to send me an angry glare, but it was a fleeting expression between her barely contained shivers of pleasure. But more significantly, her hips started to move instinctively, treating my shaft with a comforting massage. Her surrender was complete, in the body at least, the mental aspect still needed some work. I assaulted her body, bringing all the tricks I had learned in our fake-dream sessions. Minutes got together, trying to push through the hours, all the while I kept her at the edge…

Suffering under a pleasure she had never experienced before, her perception about what was happening started to flicker. She failed to notice when I sent the guard away, and she barely reacted when I pulled the cover away, revealing her skin to anyone that might pass in front of the cell. Though, despite the haze she was battling, she managed to react to my every dirty comment, tightening around my fingers with an increasing strength. It was a real challenge not to just slide inside her, but continue snugly between her cheeks, but I wanted her to be fully aware when I took her.

Drowning in the sea of pleasure, it was a prime opportunity to mess with her. "Do you want to cum?" I whispered into her ear, not neglecting to nibble on her neck on the way back.

"I do," she managed to say, barely audible between her helpless moans, the tension from many failed solo-sessions dominating her mind as she searched for the climax.

"Good, but you need to beg for it first," I said. "Can you beg for it, slut. Can you humiliate yourself just to reach that explosive end."

"No, please," she murmured. "Just let me cum." At that point, I wasn't sure that she was aware of where she was, or even able to distinguish whether it was real or dream.

"Wrong answer," I said, slapping her tit roughly, which only pushed her closed to her arousal, forcing me to slow my treatment. "Try again."

For her credit, she kept silent for another minute, until the desire became overwhelming. "Please, Draco," she moaned. "Please let me cum."

"Not good enough," I said, mocking her even as another spank landed on her skin, this time on her butt. "But still, I'm a gentleman, and couldn't leave lady suffering under such an obvious need. My fingers quickened even as I leaned forward, capturing her nipple between my teeth, biting hard enough to leave a mark. That managed to push her through the barrier, and she climaxed. Explosively, her eyelids fluttering helplessly as she edged unconsciousness. Apparently, my curse to prevent her from achieving a true release was even more effective than I thought.

Still, I couldn't help but feel a sliver of annoyance. I was playing with her for more than an hour, but wanted to play for hours more, not to mention we needed to talk about the best way to destroy Voldemort. But it seemed that those were going to be handled in another meeting. Still, that didn't mean I couldn't have fun at all. I conjured a soft-tipped pen, quickly scribbled a set of instructions over her breasts about next meeting location, with a strong recommendation to arrive alone. Then, I stood above her, playing myself furiously until I covered her breasts with my seed.

She deserved a parting gift.

Then, I quickly dressed, while leaving her naked. "What is your address," I asked her, but no answer was forthcoming, with her mind lost in the haze. I pinched her nipple, managing to bring back to the land of cognizance, then repeated the question.

"Grimmauld Place Number 12," she murmured. Only after giving the address, her eyes grew in shock, thinking that she had included me in the Fidelius, unaware that I was already a part of it. But even with that shock, the hold of pleasured unconsciousness was too hard to resist, her eyes closing a moment after.

I couldn't help but chuckle as grabbed her in a bridal position and apparated into the attic. Kreacher appeared instantly, and I gave him several instructions, including placing her in her bed and making sure the other occupants never entered the room, and strict orders not to clean her. I wanted her to wake up dirty, spent, and covered with my seed.

I couldn't wait until our next encounter.

* * *

 **Author notes: And the trap closes around Hermione as well. I have a question about the preference, would you guys would prefer to focus more on Hermione and Fleur first, or would you prefer our character to start Hogwarts for some variety?**

 **Also, don't forget to check my original writings in P/atreon/dirk_grey**


	15. Chapter 15

I woke up around noon, the taste of a certain bushy-haired beauty still on my lips, delicious enough to tempt me for another visit. Unfortunately, I had important matters to attend, and some of them were in financial nature, and couldn't be postponed. Still, it wasn't a big sacrifice, considering there was a particular blond beauty that was currently in the employ of the bank, a beauty that I had been neglecting during the last few days.

My destination, Gringotts.

There was a simple reason for my urgent financial needs. The recent takeover of the Ministry had left quite more than a few key functions in shambles. And nowhere else the situation was as bad as the departments with a role on the muggle side of the business. Combined with the total collapse of the relationship with the non-magical side, it was a mess that was impossible to recover. This state of things, combined with my status which allowed me to sneak into the department that was responsible for monitoring overall magical activity levels, gave me free rein on wandering around in the muggle side. Some magical observation, a few compulsion charms, and I had found myself in possession of several million pounds, and an almost equally sizable cache of dollars. All completely untraceable from the magical side, and since their source was criminal, muggle side wasn't aware of them as well.

Luckily, Goblins, true to their reputation as greedy little fucks, were more than willing to offer a combined service of laundering the money and converting them into galleons. And they just asked a small cut of sixty-five percent. A criminal cut to be sure, but I didn't let it bother me much. After all, it wasn't that I worked hard for them, and having a sizable pile of cash outside the control of Voldemort and Malfoy Senior was worth it.

And all that excessive fees had another nice side benefit, making me a favored client. I was far from the richest customer in terms of total holdings, or even cash holdings, but my activities generated a lot of revenue for the goblins that were managing my accounts, which was always more impossible than a huge pile of money they weren't allowed to touch. Which was why, when I asked a particular person to be my dedicated contact person for the legal side of things, they just grumbled rather than taking an actual insult. They wouldn't normally agree to assign a non-goblin account manager to an account this important, taking as an insult to their business acumen, but not with the money I was bringing to them. For Goblins, there were scarcely few insults that couldn't be mended with the attractive shine of gold.

At Gringotts, I stopped by the Goblin responsible to handle the dirtier side of my business. That meeting took less than five minutes. Their cut-throat attitude was annoying, and they were intentionally nasty, but there was an advantage to working with them as well. They never took a second more than what was necessary. There were some benefits to being unburdened by things like kindness, humor, and empathy.

Now, I was sitting at a private room 'kindly' provided by Goblins, quite a bit bigger and more comfortable than their usual offices, for a small fee of several hundreds of galleon each hour. For another hundred galleons, they ever agreed to lift the ward that was preventing apparition. I was waiting for my new account representative to appear, feeling the anticipation burning in my heart.

When the door opened after a brief knock I felt my heartbeat quickening in anticipation. Then, the door opened, revealing Fleur on the other side, breathing deep in exertion. Her panicked hurry made sense, as I couldn't imagine goblins acting understanding if one of their human employees dared to make a high-profile client wait due to employee's lateness.

The shock invaded her face the moment she had seen who was waiting for her in the room. I used the small distraction to examine her clothing -a fashionable, strategically tightened on certain locations to make it more appealing without being gauche-which looked perfectly pristine, not showing a sign of disruption despite her labored breath. Probably a quick cleaning charm, or maybe some permanent runes to of preservation.

"Mrs. Weasley," I said with a surprise that was fake, mostly because I didn't bother to make it genuine. There was no point of doing so, even if I had tried to make it genuine, she was smart enough to know goblins would never be assigned her to this task in their own violation after seeing my financials. And in the current state of our relationship, it was barely a bother. Her knowledge didn't change anything, not when goblins would never allow her preference to change the customer. "What a surprise, when the management had informed me that I was going to have a new point of contact, I hadn't imagined being this lucky."

For a moment, she said nothing, just standing still, immobile enough to be mistaken with a statue if it wasn't for the creeping redness on her face, overriding her exhaustion. The conflict on her face wasn't a surprise, not with all the changes our encounter had developed during the last month. From a perfect stranger to a thug that blackmailed her for her husband's safety, from the savior of her sister to the man that explored her body again and again… And our last encounter, where I took her virginity over the unconscious body of her husband didn't exactly help the typhoon of confusion. "You…" she whispered.

"Long time no see," I said with a smirk, letting my eyes dance over her body. I let my desire to float on the surface, reminding her of the state of her dress during our last encounter, nothing but my bite-marks and finger-prints. "Why don't you take a seat," I said, patting the seat next to me on the opulent leather couch I was occupying.

"I'm good like this," she said, trying to sound resolute, but her eyes, fluttering in panic, told a different story. She was anxious.

"I insist," I added, once again gesturing towards her intended seat, but this time, my voice was much sharper, laced with a warning she managed to catch. Another second passed in hesitation before she followed the direction. It was good to see she hadn't forgotten her lessons during the short break I had given her.

She sat next to me, her gaze on the ground, her hands together, pressing to the skirt of her skirt, like that would prevent me if I wanted to get a taste of her. I said nothing, letting her speak first. "Why are you here," she mumbled.

"It's nice to see you too, Fleur," I answered, deliberately stretching her name, enjoying every syllable that left my mouth. Her blush intensified, but she hadn't said anything else. "Come on, honey, is this the way you should treat the man who saved your precious husband."

That comment managed to break her determined silence. "How dare you!" she said as she raised her gaze. "How dare you mention him, after what you have done."

I couldn't help but smirk at her anger. "What I have done? Honey, correct me if I'm wrong, but I don't remember you trying terribly hard, trying to stop me as we tested certain parts of your precious love nest. Not while we were in your bedroom, or in your living room, and certainly not when we were in your kitchen." At the mention of her complicit surrender to my not-so-tender attention, her anger wilted, her eyes shifting back to opulent carpet that covered the floor. "There is no use talking about it," I said. "It's not like there will be a repeat of it."

The statement cut through her forced calmness like a particularly well-enchanted knife. "It won't?" she questioned loudly, her face twisted in shock, and if I was reading correctly, underlined by an instinctual disappointment.

"Our deal was for five evenings, and despite a few hiccups, we completed all of them. So, you're free of your obligations," I explained in a matter of fact tone. "It's not like you want to continue that arrangement, right?"

"Of course I don't!" she shouted, trying to convey her determination through the loudness of her voice. I had a feeling that it was aimed at herself rather than me.

I shrugged. "Understood. Then, should we move on to work, then," I said, gesturing the large pile of paperwork on my various investment.

She nodded, and reached for the first of the files. Her eyes widened slightly after examining the first document, especially the number below the line, showing the total amount of money on that particular account, but she managed to hide it much better than she could hide her reaction to my touches.

I made sure to act in perfect professionalism as we discussed my financial matters. Well, almost perfect, as occasionally, I let my fingers to slide carelessly as we passed the documents back and forth, trying to remind her about my touch.

At first, it seemed that my attempts were going to be a waste, that I had overestimated the lasting effects of our short, yet steamy acquaintance. Every time I brushed my fingers, her hand slid away in a controlled manner, as if she was impervious to the desire now that I lacked leverage to force her compliance. I still had quite a bit leverage I could bring of course, but they were all more heavy-handed than I would have preferred.

Before I could decide to use one of those extreme methods, her defense, impressive as it was, started to crack before the turn of an hour. Her skin was the first one to surrender, turning into a slight pink. As the minutes rolled, the pinkness deepened, becoming a darker color that almost deserved to be called red. The next ability that was compromised by her rising arousal was her breathing, slipping out its soft rhythm into one that was reminiscent of the nights that we spent together.

I had started to feel the delicious weight of her allure just before her fingers showed the first signs of surrender, losing their impetus to escape, the contact stretching longer and longer with each 'accidental' touch. Soon, I wasn't the only one that was initiating those touches, her gaze flickering towards me whenever they touched.

I would have pitied her if I wasn't such a heartless bastard. She was a woman who spent her early life away from the temptations of the flesh, trying to prove that she was more than her heritage. She had been the top student, and a champion for her school. She was good enough to get a prestigious job in Gringotts, and she was even selfless enough to join a hopeless resistance against tyranny in another country. But then, just before the finish line, she tangled into my web, unaware of my true reach, every attempt of struggle pushing her deeper into the descent.

And now, here she was, marginally more than ten days after our initial meeting, her desires pushing her to a point where she was sending glances that were nothing more than wordless cries of temptations, filled with hope that I might lose control and take her over the desk.

The funniest thing was, I was sure that she wasn't aware the full extent of the display her body was putting. She was haughty and prideful enough to think that, despite the storm that was raging inside her heart, she had managed to hide her thoughts and feelings from me, forgetting the fact that, during our intense trade, I had learned to read her body perfectly, that her attempts of obfuscation were doomed to fail.

"That's a good progress," I said as I leaned back on my seat, almost an hour after we first started. "I think that's enough work for one day, and I'm already feeling famished."

From the corner of my eye, I continued watching her expression, which twisted by a sudden disappointment. It took a few seconds for her to erase that expression. Even then, she wasn't entirely successful, leaving a distinctive ghost behind that told the whole story. "Whatever you prefer," she said.

My initial plan was to leave her stewing after the initial contact, but that was harder to do when her perfect beauty lay in front of my eyes, and her allure quickening my blood flow. "Actually, why don't you accompany me for the lunch. We can continue working there."

Her eyes shone in excitement at first, which then quickly replied with disappointment. "We better not," she murmured. "It's not exactly advisable for us to seen together in this environment."

I smirked. "Not if we eat at the non-magical side," I countered.

"Non-magical?" she stammered. She looked astonished, which, admittedly, was understandable. Here I was, a Malfoy, not only offering to spend time on the non-magical side voluntarily, but also carefully avoiding any term that might be construed as insulting, like mudblood, or even muggle.

"Sure, I wouldn't say no to some good sushi, though anything other than the greasy mess that Leaky Cauldron tries to sell as food is an achievement. Why?"

"You have a reputation for…" she murmured before stopping for a second. Looking for a better word than a bigot, no doubt. "Favoring older traditions of the magical world," she continued. "I wouldn't expect you to try sushi."

"I'm a man with many surprises, Fleur," I said, this time not referring her with her surname. I didn't want to break the intimate air, and a reference to her married state would do that easily. "Let's go," I said, grabbed her arm, and before she could say anything, apparated away.

We found ourselves in the secluded corner I had prepared as a convenient arrival point, protected by several spells to keep people away. After looking around to make sure the spells were still holding, I turned my attention back to Fleur, who was trying to gather her balance after the surprise teleportation. Even with the power of the Death Stick, side-along apparation was a nasty feeling when unprepared. "Are you ready to go?" I asked her.

She looked at me angrily, but she was smart enough to keep her tongue from saying anything she might later regret, proving that her training wasn't a waste. I removed my robe, revealing a simple jeans and shirt combo underneath. I stuffed the robe to the pocket of my jeans, which was charmed to hold anything I put in there. Her expression shifted when she noticed the sudden change of clothes. "No," she murmured. "I don't have any non-magical clothes with me. I can't come here wearing a robe."

I doubted that. Even in the ridiculous stuff that the magical insist to treat as respectable clothing, Fleur looked more beautiful than a runway model, and her robes could be easily explained as a new fashion statement. I had no intention to tell her that though. I would never miss the opportunity to make her wear something more appealing than those robes, especially when I could watch her change. "No worries," I said as I reached for my pouch, and pulled a small, white dress that I had specially brought for this occasion.

Her eyes weren't free of suspicion as she turned towards me, but that didn't last long, especially when she raised the dress against her silhouette, and saw that the dress was not only short enough to leave most of her legs bare and with a deep cleavage, but also tight enough to make sliding inside a challenge. "Umm…" she murmured.

"Is there a problem," I asked, but I was careful to keep my tone dark and forbidding, suggesting to her that complaining might not be for her benefit.

"No," she answered resignedly. "Could you turn your back so I can change."

"No," I said, copying her answer. Or more accurately, copying the words of her answer, as the tone and intention couldn't have been more different, her silky resignation replaced with blackened steel. Beginnings of an outrage appeared in the depths of her eyes, only to disappear in the same exact speed the moment I quirked my eyebrow. The next few seconds, she continued looking into my eyes, but this time, begging rather than trying to demand. "Do you need any help," I asked, my hands rising to display my enthusiasm.

She shook her head. "I can handle myself," she answered in a squeaky voice as she turned her back, her hands already working on the buttons of her robe. Her easy surrender made sense. Considering the times we spent together, underwear could be counted as overdressed. But, regardless of my overexposure of her beautiful body, I couldn't help but feel excited as her ugly robe slid away from her body. Her elegant back revealed first, its beautiful arc interrupted by an ugly, beige strap. The robe fell further, until it met with the ground, which unfortunately revealed that her panties were equally ugly. It was an outrage I had no intention of allowing.

I waited until she managed to stuff herself into the tight wrap of the dress, which was tight enough to look painted. I took a step closer as she struggled to zip her back. "Let me help," I said as I grabbed the zipper, and started to pull it up softly. Since she had to look at the other side, she missed my wand leaving its holder, noticing only when its tip tapped at the strap of her bra, vanishing it into oblivion. Nothing less than that ugly piece deserved in my opinion.

"What was that!" Fleur asked in panic, but I could hear the involuntary excitement in her tone.

"Just making sure to put the dress to a maximum effect," I explained even as I pointed my wand down, and subjecting her panties to the same ignoble fate. "Here, isn't it much better," I said even as I grabbed her hand, forcing her to turn. She failed to answer, her excitement pushing her breathing out of control, leaving her panting and gasping in an uncontrolled manner, her instincts, trained during our payback session, readying her body for a sweaty, extended embrace. Her nipples, hard rock with arousal, pushed against the white fabric, begging for me to take them into my warm hold.

"Shall we," I asked instead as I presented my arm to her. She reluctantly put her arm onto mine, and we started to walk. Yes, taking her immediately was fun, but I wanted to see her begging, aroused. A lunch without her underwear as I continuously teased her should do the trick…


	16. Chapter 16

It was an interesting experience to walk through the streets of London with a woman as enchanting as Fleur beside me. Her beauty was unparalleled even without her allure. And the tight white dress she was wearing, short enough to make every man around to pray for a gust of wind, tight enough to reveal the excellent lines of her body, carried things to whole new level. Every eye was on her, most with arousal, though jealousy was almost as common.

Even more interestingly, she was enjoying the attention. I couldn't say that she was comfortable, she usually fidgeted whenever someone strayed too close. Unsurprising, since the only thing between her and nakedness was the thin white fabric of her dress. But, still, she enjoyed enough for her nipples to turn rock hard, clearly visible through her dress. It was nice to see all my efforts to change her personality was not in waste.

And it was even nicer to watch her, squeezed in the conflict between her desires and her sense of propriety as she walked through the streets of London, unsure whether to bask in attention or shy away. I smiled, trying to keep my desire to tease her under control. Not because I had suddenly started to pity her, of course. No, I didn't want to distract her from her awareness of the surroundings.

Our walk in silence until we were at the restaurant's entrance, a top rated Asian restaurant that had a six-month waiting list. Only by using magic I was able to get a seat. We passed through the entrance, and found ourselves in a sparsely decorated entry hall which nevertheless gave the sense of an elite superiority. And a short but sexy Japanese lady was waiting for us at the door, wearing a dress resembling a kimono, but strategically altered to look sexier for Western sensibilities.

I waited for her to greet us, but she was stuck looking at Fleur instead. I could have acted like an asshole, of course, but decided otherwise. I understood the sudden challenge she was facing. Not every day she met with a beauty that would make supermodels consider suicide. "Hi," I said to her, trying to get her attention. "We had a reservation for two, for Mr. Munroe."

She shook her head, the blush spreading her face as she realized the blunder she made. "Right this way," she stuttered, realizing the situation she forced herself in with that delay. Her manager wouldn't be happy if he learned that she chose to ogle a customer rather than greeting us in the proper way.

The greeter walked in front of us, her hips moving side to side in an attractive manner, but it failed to get more than a passing glance with Fleur next to me. Fleur also missed it, preferring to face me with a confused expression. "It's the name, right?" I asked, and received a nod in return. "I didn't want my name on the record, just in case," I explained. I could have gone into detail about possible Death Eater raids or whatnot, but I chose to leave them out for now, not wanting to ruin the mood. As we walked through the restaurant, all eyes were on Fleur.

Then, we arrived at our table, a large, corner table already populated with a generous display of sushi and other assorted dishes, but most importantly, the sight of the other tables partially blocked by the semi-transparent screens. A sigh escaped Fleur's mouth as she took her seat, unaware that this limited privacy was at my request.

I grabbed my chopsticks and helped myself with a few cuts of sushi. "You should try this," I said as pushed a plate towards her. "These are my favorite."

"Do you eat Japanese food often?" Fleur murmured. She tried to keep it as an off-hand comment, but her nervousness betrayed her. What she was trying to ask was the source of my casual familiarity with the details of the non-magical world. A knowledge that was impressive even for a muggle-friendly family like Weasleys, and downright miraculous in a family like Malfoys.

"Occasionally," I answered. "Most of the time, I limit myself to takeout, but I thought it would be a good change of pace for you as well. You like sushi, right?'

"I do," she whispered as she tried to suppress her blush. "It's just that…"

"You don't expect a supremacist like me to be aware of Japan, let alone enjoying Japanese food," I said. Her gaze jumped to my face in an instant, painted with fear, ready to claim that she wasn't thinking that. However, instead of finding anger on my face, she only found amusement, which puzzled her more. "You seem confused?" I quipped.

"I don't…" she murmured for a second before changing her statement. "I'm confused," she admitted. "Why are you supporting that monster if you are enjoying the non-magical side this much."

"There is an answer for that," I said. "But you need to win a little bet if you want to learn the answer for it. Is that something you might be interested in?" She bit her bottom lip as she thought about it, but soon, she was nodding in approval. She didn't ask what the bet was, which normally I would deem as stupidity, but she was aware that I had power over her from both personal and business sides, and rejecting anything was not an option. "You just need to keep yourself contained for the duration of the dinner," I explained.

She looked confused for a moment, which gave me enough time to slip my foot off my shoe. Her eyes grew in shock when my toe brushed her ankle, but its significances, she realized only after the second time my toe brushed against the same spot. "You're going to-" she tried to say with an obvious display of panic.

"Exactly," I answered. "It's just a simple game, you're going to ignore my touches without any mishap, and voila, you can ask three questions for me. You just need to control yourself for the duration of our lunch. Simple, right?"

Fleur's expression shouted that it was not simple, not even close, but that didn't keep her from nodding. And I might even think that it was only foreboding that she was feeling, if it wasn't for her allure, flaring with excitement. She had been longing my touch, and now she was getting it.

"Perfect," I murmured. I could feel my mouth watering, and it had nothing to do with the delicious spread in front of me. My gaze was on the food, but my attention was on the small glide of my foot, climbing upwards on her leg, reaching to her knee in a few seconds, which then I passed on my way to her inner thighs. At that point, her eyes jumped to mine in panic, realizing I had no intention of limiting myself to safer spots.

But before she could say anything, a waitress appeared next to our table. Like the greeter, she was a dark-haired, petite Japanese woman, wearing a sexy interpretation of her traditional clothing. "Is there anything else I can bring," she murmured, but with her each word, her face was getting redder. A side effect of receiving Fleur's allure from point-blank range while she was trying to contain her own arousal. "Maybe something to … drink," she continued, one of her hands gently gliding over her own leg, the side effect of her sudden arousal.

Luckily for her, the rest of the restaurant was in a similar state, so they failed to notice her action. "Some warm sake would be nice," I added even as my foot climbed to the inside of Fleur's leg, caressing the soft texture of her inner thighs. "How about you, honey," I added, forcing her to do something else than trying to suppress her feelings. "Warm or chilled?"

"Chilled," she managed to say, but her voice resembled a moan more than anything else. Luckily, our waitress was far to gone to be offended by something that simple. After one last lingering glance towards Fleur, she walked away, her hips dancing quite a bit more than what was strictly necessary.

I quirked my eyebrow when I felt her hand on my ankle. "Are you sure you want to do that," I said, my voice deceptively light. But after the long nights we spent together, Fleur was smart enough to catch the implied threat, and pulled her hand back right in that instant. "Good girl," I added, which managed to put a smile on her face despite the ridiculousness of the situation.

Another lull followed my last statement, soon after broken by the return of our waitress. But I felt my eyes widen appreciatively when I caught sight of the changes in her dress. The same kimono-inspired coat was on, but it was widened considerably, enough to create a spectacular cleavage for my viewing pleasure, enough to reveal that she wasn't wearing anything underneath. And since I doubted it was the usual dress code, she must have changed it just for us. Fleur's allure was working amazingly.

Pity, I thought as I turned my gaze towards Fleur, trying to ignore the tantalizing display. Today was about sealing Fleur's conquest, and adding a third person to the balance wouldn't be helpful. It would be delicious, of course, but it wouldn't be helpful. My decision was challenged quite a bit when the waitress leaned forward to put our drinks to the table, and revealing her small, but beautiful breasts for my attention. It was pure luck that Fleur's gaze was firmly on the table, trying to hide her own aroused expression.

"Thanks, honey," I said as I slid my hand into her clothes, checking whether she was wearing panties, which stayed hidden from the rest of the guests thanks to the panels around our table. The answer was positive, and when I pulled back, my wallet was a hundred pounds lighter. In my opinion, such a dedicated service deserved a reward.

As the waitress fixed her clothing and walked away, her hips were shaking harder than a stripper desperate for tips. I turned my attention back to Fleur, who was biting her lips desperately in an attempt to keep her voice low, a challenge that was getting harder by each passing second. I made a point of avoiding her lower lips, but that was a nascent hope for her. During our encounters, I had learned quite a bit about her sensitive spots, and I had no problems employing them to get what I wanted.

"Are you enjoying the … food?" I asked after a minute of silence, my foot still dancing over her thighs. The question made her raise her head for the first time for a while, allowing me to see her barely restrained arousal, dancing behind her eyes. She was biting her lips in an attempt to keep her moans inside, successfully even, but that only made sexier. "I'm waiting," I said, stretching my words in amusement.

"It's good-" she managed to say until it was interrupted by a moan, as I pushed my foot further the exact moment she started speaking, tickling her most sensitive spot. Her skirt was a barrier between her skin and my touch, but its silky fabric wasn't the best barrier. She had to raise her hand, pressing on her mouth, to prevent more moans from following it, a task that took her whole attention.

And with that, the last piece of control she was having on her allure was lost, suffocating the surrounding area with the all subtlety of a battering ram. With my foot still on its task, I glanced around, curious how the other customers were faring under the assault of allure. It turned out that they were looking at the table, trying to process the unfamiliar rush of emotions, their faces turned towards our table.

I cast an aversion ward on the table, obscuring it from everyone's sight. With that, the occupants lost the focus on their desires, but the arousal was still there. Naturally, their attention started to turn against the others in the room. The people with dates started to flirt in a much more heated manner, and several men dressed in business suits started to pay undue attention to the waitresses, becoming handsier than a sailor in a strip club, but the waitresses had to problem accommodating their sudden desire. And a few people were already on their feet, dragging their partners towards the nearest available closed spaces.

But Fleur was unaware of all that, the attempts to control her reactions blinding her to the surroundings. I decided to push things even more. Another wave of my wand, and an ice cube floated up, gently gliding towards her neck. She missed it until it touched her neck, at that point she flinched, her hand deserting its post to catch the offending object. Her fingers met around the ice cube, confusion thick enough to overwhelm her arousal for a moment.

"Is there something wrong, Fleur," I said even as I started rubbing her knob even harder. "You seem a bit tense."

"N-no," she managed to stammer before moans threatened to overwhelm her, forcing her to bring both of her hands over her lips once more. She was on the edge of defeat. I pulled my leg back, sliding it into my shoe once again. Fleur looked at me with a grateful expression before letting her eyes fall on the table, breathing deep to gain a semblance of control.

In her priority to contain her arousal, she missed a very important detail. I had stood up with the intention of changing seats. She didn't even notice as I plopped herself to the seat next to her. She did notice when I put my hands on the naked part of her leg. "Draco!" she exclaimed in panic, correctly reading my intention. But it was too late for her to stop me. She grabbed my wrist in an attempt to slow down the inevitable climb of my fingers, but she was shaking under the strain of an unmet orgasm, and her own muscles betrayed her, refusing to put their power behind her move. Her trembling grip didn't even slow me down.

"Yes, Fleur," I said, amused by the point she shifted calling me by my first name. "How can I help you?" I added mockingly as my hand tried to disappear under her skirt, but with her fingers still around my wrist, the movement pushed her to skirt up, revealing her nether lips to my sight instead. My shaft started throbbing with excitement at the inviting sight of her wet entrance, begging for me to slide inside her.

"Please-" she begged, trying to ask for a reprieve, but once again, I didn't let her finish her sentence, this time by pressing my lips against her neck, delightfully forcing her to convert her words to another moan.

"Please, what?" I said as my fingers slid into her wetness, her walls squeezing them like her life depended on their presence. I stayed motionless inside her, my eyes on hers, waiting for her words to continue. Her shining blue eyes stayed in contact with mine for a few seconds as she tried to maintain the last scraps of her frayed self-control, but her instincts, which was trained to perfection during our extended barter, dominated her rationality. She nodded demurely, her expression telling a tale of surrender, and she leaned to capture my lips. A soft moan escaped from my lips, mixing with hers, as our lips locked into a tender kiss, with great contrast to the rest of the situation.

I took that as an invitation to finish the second act of today's little game, and my fingers started to pump inside her mercilessly. She started trembling as the climax hit, her breathing getting harsher and harsher, but interestingly, her lips patiently stayed locked with mine, teasing them with a lingering kiss.

"You lose," I said teasingly as I pulled back from the kiss after her trembles subsided.

"I did," she said with a sigh as she put her hands over my chest, gently caressing my muscles as my fingers continued to slid inside her, trying to bring things to a point of upheaval. Another surprisingly tender action that showed my growing power over her.

"It's good that you accept your position," I said. "Because now, it's time for the punishment game," I said. I pushed the food off the table with a swipe of my arm, and before Fleur could react, I pushed her on the table, her soft chest pressing against the hardwood.

"Wait-" she tried to say fearfully as my sudden movement was enough to remind her that we were still in a public place. I hadn't listened to her, not that I needed to, as she was frozen the moment she saw the current state of the restaurant. I used the opportunity to cast a spell to weaken her dress. Another tug, and she was completely naked, but with her eyes stuck on the orgy that was being conducted by the rest of the occupants, she failed to react her rough undressing, giving me enough time to slide inside her.

A moan escaped my mouth as her warmth enveloped my shaft. Her tightness was delicious, but I pushed deep inside mercilessly. We had been playing for a while, I needed the relief. "That's your fault, you know," I commented offhandedly as I pumped inside her mercilessly.

"What," she managed to stammer, with her attention split between trying to keep herself from crying in pleasure, and covering her body with her hands from the rest, unaware of the spell that prevented the others from seeing us. Otherwise, they would be charging us in an attempt to touch Fleur. Their mind was completely dominated by the allure, which was why there was a bona fide orgy that was going on. A few couples were rutting on the corners, isolating themselves from the larger group, while several others were collected in a pile in the middle of the room. The waitress that served us earlier was squeezed between two businessmen, one taking her from the backdoor while the other ravaged her pussy, the greeter that showed us our table being spit-roasted next to her, both showing utmost dedication to customer satisfaction.

I turned my attention back to Fleur, whose attention turned more inward with each time our flesh slapped together. I could feel my own climax drawing closer, but I had a different ending in mind. I pulled back without a warning, and sat on my seat. Fleur turned towards me, her expression between hunger and betrayal, everything else forgotten in favor of her climax.

"Hop on," I said as I pointed at my lap. She didn't lose any time, threw herself on her feet with the grace of a ballerina and plopped herself on my lap with the same grace. A loud cry escaped her mouth as my shaft slid inside her, and she started jumping on my lap, each jump driving my thickness even further, which also brought her to a deeper point of arousal. My arms were around her waist, but instead of my usual iron grip, they were a soft coil around her, a barrier she could cut through negligently.

The reason, I wanted to see the extent of her loss of control. "I'm almost there," I whispered into her ear. Her eyes burned with comprehension, but the desire she was feeling didn't allow her to break our connection. I tried to push her off my lap, softly of course, just enough to be able to claim that I tried to push her off, but with no possibility of succeeding. And her own mind, shackled by her own instincts, didn't give her a chance either.

"I'm here," I whispered, and her only response was to wrap her leg around my waist as she pushed herself even lower, swallowing the full length of my shaft, locking herself in place. And that finally broke through my resistance, and I started spraying her insides with my seed, her expression brightening with each pump. It wasn't the first time I cum inside her, but it was the first time she accepted it in her own volition.

She came to the same realization as the seconds ticked, a horror growing on her face. She jumped off my lap, my seed sliding down her thighs, mixed with her own juices… "I… I need to go," she murmured in panic as she fumbled for her wand.

"Sure," I said as I passed her wand to her, which was lying on the side, forgotten during the action. "Also, take the afternoon off, I'll handle the things with the goblins," I said. She blinked away before bothering to find something to wear, still completely naked. I apparated away to my own home a second later, leaving the muggles alone for their pleasure…

* * *

 **Author notes: Fleur's emotional castles are falling one by one, putting her in a perilous position. Now, it's time to a visit from Hermione, where they will discuss resistance against the Dark Lord, and in particular, and she will learn Malfoy's assistance is not for free.**

 **Also, don't forget to check my original writings in P/atreon/dirk_grey**


	17. Chapter 17

I was expecting that, after handling Fleur, the rest of my day was going to pass in a predictable monotony. But a sudden pop, signaling the sudden appearance of a house elf, threatened to derail the boring routine that I planned to have. "Young master," said Kreacher, who just appeared in my study.

"Kreacher," I greeted cheerfully. "Always good to see you."

"Thanks, young master," he said with a voice that he tried to keep gruff, but I could sense his emotions underneath. Such an interesting creature, stronger than most wizards, but still vulnerable to the slightest compliment. "The mudblood bookworm left the house after saying she was going to sleep early," he explained.

"Excellent," I said. Kreacher bowed, then disappeared, leaving me alone with my thoughts. There was only one reason for Hermione to leave the house after tricking the others. She intended to follow my directions for a meeting. Well, who I was to disappoint her, I decided as I apparated to the Center snatchers used as their headquarter, the place that witnessed our last encounter. A walk across the building, and the guards were under my magical control once more.

With everything in place, I sat on my chair, my mind on how to progress with Hermione. I only waited for twenty minutes before a knock distracted me from my thoughts. The door opened a second later, revealing one of the guards under my Imperius, but more importantly, Hermione was behind him, her eyes on the ground, trembling slightly. The reason was simple. She was wearing a short skirt, with the rest of her legs covered with black fishnets. Her top was similarly revealing, a tight white tank top, transparent enough to show the black bra she was wearing underneath. She was dressed that slutty, because I told her to do so in the inscriptions I wrote on her body, explaining that it was the only way to keep the reason for her visit obstructed.

"Sir, you have a mudblood bitch that claims that she has something important to talk with you," he said, leering excessively. Almost too much, I noted, though thankfully Hermione was too distracted to actually took note of that detail, her eyes shifting panickedly.

"Yes, my informant," I said back to the guard, deliberately stretching the last word to pack a sensual suggestiveness into it. "You can go now," I said, while subtly gesturing him to ignore that sentence. It was one of the several gestures I had added to their conditioning, to help me better sell the ruse to my beautiful victim.

"Are you sure, boss. Maybe I can help you interrogate her?"

"I said, you can go now," I repeated, this time gesturing him to follow my command. This time, he walked away, leaving me alone with Hermione. "Close the door, please," I asked her.

"What the hell is going on, Malfoy," she said with a loud voice, trying to sound angry, but she wasn't a good actor, so it fell flat, failing to cover her anxiety. "Why can't we meet in a different place?"

"Simple, here, no one would look up your visit in detail, and even if someone noticed accidentally, with the way you're dressed, I can easily convince them about the ulterior motive of your visit. Same doesn't apply if we're caught anywhere else. Someone will check you to validate the story, and everything would fall apart. Even sneaking away is not a good choice. Dark Mark is an excellent medium for tracking, and I can't risk being in a different place than I'm supposed to be. They are already suspecting that there is someone leaking information, and I need to minimize the risk."

"And do I have to act like a streetwalker," she asked with a tightening voice, clearly remembering how our last encounter had ended.

"You don't have to," I answered with a dismissive shrug. "But it increases your chances of staying under notice. These men aren't the sharpest knives in the drawer. As long as your presence has a simple reason they could understand, they won't question it further."

She took a deep breath as she grabbed the hem of her skirt, trying to pull it down in a vain attempt to increase the area they covered. "I understand, but still…"

"I'm risking my mother's life along with my own, Granger," I reminded her with a sharp tone. "And I'm not the only one that is risking my life. Is dressing like a whore a big sacrifice compared to alternatives?" She murmured a response too quiet for me to hear. "Anyway, let's not waste too much time in things like that. We have a lot to talk about. But first, come closer, we need to look convincing in case someone walks in."

"Can't you just order them to stay away," she asked desperately.

"Not if I want to keep the suspicion to a minimum. They are simple men, and I would like to use the simplest way to distract them. Anything else brings an unacceptable level of risk."

And with that, her blush climbed even further, no doubt remembering what had followed the last time I had used that excuse. But it was a testament of success for my dream conditioning and other methods that she followed my command without a protest, and stood next to me. "Now, sit down," I said, tapping a spot directly in front of me on the table.

"Is it-" she tried to say, but I cut her off by grabbing her arm and pulling her closer roughly. "Hey!" she exclaimed, that didn't prevent her from sitting the exact same spot I had ordered her to sit.

"Quicker you follow my directions, easier we could move onto more important topics, such as finding the best way to get rid of our Dark Lord infestation," I said, but my attention was more on the beautiful view that appeared in front of me as Hermione raised herself to sit on my desk. Her short skirt failed to cover her fully under the challenge of her pose, revealing her panties, a lacy black piece matching with her bra, and if my eyes weren't lying, also slightly damp on the core. It was good to have confirmation that, despite her apparent reluctance, she was quite excited for what was about to follow. I had trained her well.

She noticed where my gaze was focused, and pressed her legs together for concealment. "Let's talk about the resistance," she said, trying to spit out angrily, but the tremble in her voice ruined the effect. She was feeling frustrated, so she reached for the water pitcher and filled a glass for herself. A big mistake, I thought with a smirk as I watched her gulp down the water. I had laced the water with a potion that would increase her arousal and sensitivity, the ones that worked perfectly when I was training Fleur.

"Sure," I said even as I put my hand on her leg. She looked at me, but before she could say anything, I followed up with my excuse. "Just to make sure nothing looks suspicious if someone walks in," I explained. She nodded. "Now, what do you want to know?"

"What's the general status," Hermione asked. "We're trying to stay away from the rest of the Order, so it has been a while since we got any news."

"It's rather dark," I started explaining even as my hand climbed her leg, reaching upwards. "After the ministry takeover, the resistance fractured badly, with only a few pockets remaining, and they are flailing uselessly. There are a few counter-attacks, and several rescues, but no damage to anything vital."

"Have you done anything to help them?" she asked.

"Other than letting go a few people that I suspected being Order members? Unfortunately, no," I said, and the movement of my hand stopped for a moment.

"Why not? Aren't you supposed to be on our side?" she asked in an accusatory manner, but it was not a genuine question, but an angry one aimed to distract herself from the sensation of my touch.

"How exactly I was going to help them openly?" I asked, doing my best Snape impression for a moment. She was taken back by my response, and I used the opportunity to slide higher on her leg, my hand disappearing under her skirt. "Not only I don't know their identity to get any help, but also I don't think any of them would tell me, a Malfoy, what they need. For example, you would never trust me if I hadn't saved you from prison, and didn't do anything despite I have access to your hiding spot."

"I guess so," she murmured, missing the significance of my finger, drawing ever closer to her panties. "Sorry, I'm just frustrated that I can't do more," she murmured.

"Don't worry, I understand. We're just two young people, trying to clean up the mess our elders had created in their incompetence," I said in false compassion, using my free hand to pat her leg in comradeship, the other driving ever closer to her most sensitive spot, slowly massaging on the way, driving up the pleasure she was feeling. "We're doing our best, but it's hard. We lack knowledge, and we don't know who to trust."

Before she could answer, a knock reached to my ears, the first scheduled visit from the programmed guards. "Try to sound convincing," I ordered her in a hurry even as I forced her legs wide, giving me a view of her slit, restricted only by her moist panties.

"What-" she tried to say, but it was cut short when I leaned forward. On the way, I tugged her panties harshly, and ripped them off her body. Then, I pressed my lips on her naked slit, my tongue joining the fray in an instant. Her sweet taste blossomed on my tongue as it started to beat her knob with a hurried insistence. A moan escaped her lips instantly, surprised by the sudden rush of pleasure, enhanced under the combination of her own anticipation and the effects of the potion she unknowingly imbibed.

I continued licking her even as the door opened, and I ignored the first call the guard made for me. I only raised my head after an insistent cough from him. "What!" I said as I pulled my head away from between her, trying to sound cross.

"There are a few documents that you need to sign, sir," the guard said.

"Sure, drop them on the desk, and I'll do them as soon as I'm done with my current 'work'. It shouldn't take more than an hour," I explained, wiggling my eyebrows suggestively, trying to put a convincing show for Hermione.

"I'm afraid that's not possible, sir. The request is from Rockwood, and he asks them as soon as possible. You know how he is," the guard said, following his next programmed response.

"I see," I murmured with a sigh. I reached for my belt. After a moment of fumbling, my shaft was free from the oppression of my pants, breathing freely. Hermione was doubly shocked, first by the sudden entrance of the guard and my method of deflecting his attention, and now, my new measure. "Come on, sweetie, you have a lot of work to do," I said even as I wrapped my fingers around her wrist. I pulled her closer, harsh, and when she was in front of me, I grabbed her shoulder and forced her to her knees, not trying particularly hard to look nice. And beset by the shock of the situation, she failed to react until she was on her knees, inches away from my erection.

"Pass me the paperwork," I said even as I used my right hand to reach for a quill, while my left hand slid into Hermione's bushy hair, forcing her to lean closer. "Play along," I whispered, trying to pack as much as urgency to my voice as I can manage. But she was too shocked to move, so I pressed my hand over her head, pulling her closer. I could have repeated my words, hoping for her to hear, but with my hand already in such a favorable position, I preferred to a more direct approach. I pulled her head down, forcing her to swallow the tip of my shaft.

"Here they are, sir," said the mind controlled guard as he placed the files on the table. With his task complete, he turned to leave, but I stopped him with a silent gesture, ordering him to delay his departure. "I better wait until they are finished, sir, to make sure they are completed despite your distraction."

"Whatever," I murmured dismissively as I reached for the pen, and started scribbling nonsense words over the papers the guard provided, my attention fully on the sexy bookworm between my legs. Hermione flinched with the words, and tried to pull back, surprised by our surprised voyeur, but my iron grip didn't allow her to pull back. She was stiff around my shaft, but it wasn't something that would stop me. I pressed at the back of her head even harder, forcing her to swallow more of my shaft. She still didn't react more, so I dropped my pen for a moment, and slapped her breast, my left hand still over her head to prevent her from pulling back.

It proved to be a good decision, because shocked by the sudden slip in the physical dimension, she started to struggle. But I didn't let her to, even when she was tapping my leg panickedly. I gestured the guard, mouthing him the sentence I wanted him to say. "She is a feisty one, sir," he said with a leer. "Maybe I should help you a bit."

"Thanks for the offer, but no need," I said to him, amused by the way she lost her desire to fight in an instant. "She is smart enough to know which boundaries not to push when her family's safety is on the line." I smirked in satisfaction to an effective strategy, then pressed her head once more, reminding her that she needed to move if she was going to be successful in her role as the desperate daughter of a family under threat.

Soon, she started moving in her own volition, her lips dancing over my length. It wasn't as enjoyable as it could be, as her movements were still mechanical with little passion behind them, her stress overwhelming the enjoyment she felt despite the assistance of the potion. But since she was once again moving by her own will, I was free to use my left hand for more useful things than forcing her to move.

My fingers slid down to her neck, dancing on her sensitive skin. I could feel her out-of-control pulse on my fingertips, pumping crazily despite the challenge they were feeling to bring things under control. It was good, harder her heart pumped, more effective the potion was going to be.

I let my fingers to slide even lower, until they met with the edge of her tank top. It was tight, but its fabric wasn't exactly strongest, so it barely resisted my finger from sliding inside her top. My fingers found the edge of her breasts, the thumping of her heart tickling my fingertips. She stopped once more, but this time, it was barely a stagger. With everything else that was going on, caressing the edge of her breasts was simply not that important.

But it wasn't true for my next action. Not willing to waste the excellent position they had, my fingers slid lower on her torso, until they slipped through the barrier her bra tried to provide. With that, she froze, but I chose to squeeze her nipple between my fingers.

I was expecting her to react negatively, therefore giving me an excuse to punish her in front of the guard, but surprisingly, she just returned the task in her hand, or more accurately, in her mouth. I was surprised at her obedience, I had been expecting more resistance from her. Maybe I had been more successful than I had hoped.

Of course, it was just an excuse for me to push even further. I dropped my quill for a moment, and reached for the letter-opener on my desk, charmed for sharpness but without the ability to cut the living tissue. The perfect tool to help Hermione undress, I decided as I placed it on her back. I pulled my left hand from inside her bra, but still inside her tank-top, pushing the fabric away from her skin. I dragged the edge of letter-opener over it, and her white top fell apart in two pieces, sliding towards the ground without any support.

That managed to cut through her concentration.

She pulled away, leaving my shaft, wet with her spit, to dangle freely with a shine. "What-" she tried to say, but I was ready. I used my free hand to grab her by the cheeks, preventing her from saying anything more, while I mouthed her to play along, trying to convince her that it was just a ploy to convince our peeping guard. I kept eye contact until she gave a resigned nod, then raised the letter opener once more. Three slashes later, two on the straps, and one on the hooks, her bra followed the same path with her top.

Her arms rose, too late to catch the bra that slid away, but quick enough to hide her breasts away after the sustained glimpse they allowed. "What are you waiting for," I asked with an abrasive voice as I swapped for the quill. "Go back to your work."

"Yes, sir," Hermione murmured. I would have believed that it was just an attempt to maintain the role, in particular, fixing the damage her earlier actions caused. But surprisingly, the fleeting expression in her face was different, suggesting a more honest, a more primal reaction. Her arms were crossed over her chest, trying to hide her breasts, but nevertheless, she leaned forward, capturing my shaft once more.

I quickly scribbled a few more signatures before asking the guard to take them away, but leave the door open when he left. I wanted to test just how deep her submissive streak went. The guard did so, leaving me alone with Hermione, who was too distracted with her new situation to notice his disappearance.

The time to test her limits was finally here…

* * *

 **Author notes: Unfortunately, Hermione was a bit behind on perils of being a female spy... Thankfully, she had a good friend, willing to help her as she covered her appalling lack of knowledge on such an important topic...**

 **Also, don't forget to check my original writings in P/atreon/dirk_grey**


	18. Chapter 18

Despite my decision to test her limits, I was content in silently watching Hermione after the guard's departure, marveling at her changes. Admittedly, even discounting my insidious manipulations, what she was going through was far from simple. Thanks to Dumbledore's idiotic plan, she had found herself shouldering the responsibility to end a war they were losing rather badly. Her carnal sacrifices made sense under the unbelievable amount of stress was not a surprise.

And my modifications on her mentality significantly furthered the lengths she was willing to go. The magical tricks I had implemented on her made sure that she was backed up with desire to an unbelievable degree. Not to mention the situation I had trapped her discharged that pressure in most high-risk way imaginable, by making her think that she was just a mistake away from captured by the enemy. And being saved by the biggest annoyance for their so-called golden-trio wasn't helpful to her attempts to balance herself, nor the fact that sexual relations with said annoyance being the only way to avoid attendance.

I shook my head, distracting myself, not wanting to waste any time with introspection while there was a sexy minx between my legs, doing her best to milk me dry. The fact that her top and her bra was lying on the ground in pieces, leaving her half naked. Yes, her arms were still crossed over her breasts, trying to hide her treasures, but they were noticeably looser, giving me occasional glimpses of her nipples as she tried to devour more of my shaft.

Since she was yet to notice the absence of the guard, I decided to use the opportunity to start bringing things to the next level. I lowered my hands to her chest, leveraging her lack of attention to squeeze between the space between her arms and her breasts. In my palms, her globes felt like little balls of fire, her heartbeat flickering like tongs of flame. I squeezed them hard, earning a moan, which almost triggered a climax in me because she didn't bother to pull my shaft outside her mouth before letting out that cry, causing my shaft to rumble.

I expected her to pull back after that squeeze, but much to my surprise, she continued her task with the same diligence that made her the best student of her generation. I was tempted to let her continue with that task, of course, but that would ruin quite a bit of the preparation I had put in place, and I wasn't willing to forgo their amusement value.

"The guard is gone," I said in stage whisper, my hands still on her breasts, massaging them softly.

It took a few seconds for her to react my words, and even then, it was just her eyes, rising to meet mine while her lips still maintained their repetitive journey on my shaft. In her eyes, a delicious mixture of arousal and dancing, effortlessly suppressing her emotions on the negative side of the spectrum.

She had repeated the motion a couple more times until my lips involuntarily quirked into a smirk, which somehow reminded her of the situation she was in. Her lips froze in place for a moment as the situation hit her in its nakedness, then she pulled back. Her arms tightened around her chest reflexively, but that worked the opposite effect, as my hands were still in place.

"You need to loosen your grip so that I can pull back my hands," I reminded. My words achieved the impossible, enhancing her blush even further. But her arms loosened, allowing me to pull back my hands, also giving me another glimpse of her perky tits before she grabbed the scraps of her top and pressed it against her chest to cover them.

I said nothing else. Watching Hermione was more fun as she stayed on her knees, not knowing where to look. She couldn't even decide where to look, trying to avoid the sight of my erection which still glistened with her saliva. But she also avoided my gaze, unable to stomach the sight of the victorious smirk that I was unable to erase despite my best efforts. In the end, she remembered why she was here.

"So, where were we?" I asked even as I leaned back, not making the slightest effort to cover my glistening length.

"We were…" Hermione tried to start, but her words stumbled when her gaze was once again caught by my presence. "Can't you just put that back on your pants," she whined.

"I can't," I answered calmly. "You never know when another guard passes by, and it's safer to be ready to continue our ruse," I explained, amused by the ease she believed my half-assed reasoning. After all, just closing the door would be a much easier solution than maintaining the constant impression that things were about to devolve into a naked wrestling match. Not that it would have worked if she recommended it; my arguments were already prepared to convince her otherwise.

"Okay," she whispered, the shock still apparent in her tone. "Let's go back talking about the resistance."

"We will," I said even as I put my hand towards her. "But first, we need to make sure we won't be overheard," I said. "Without a spell," I added a moment later when I saw her reaching for her wand. "Can you imagine just suspicious it will look if we use a silencing spell to hide our discussion. No, you need to be closer."

"But how?" she asked.

"Simple, you need to be closer so that I can whisper at you without any chance of being overheard even if someone else decides to drop," I explained even as I shifted in my chair, trying to make myself comfortable for what was about to follow.

She sent a fleeting glance towards the door before speaking once more. "But, if I sit on the table they will…" she said, trailing into silence, but from the way her arms tightened around her chest even further, it was obvious that she was concerned about revealing her half-naked body to the thugs we were employing as Snatchers.

"You will not sit on the table," I corrected her, and much to her growing shock, I patted my legs, inviting her to my lap. "This way, I would be able to whisper into your ear without raising any suspicion." I wiggled my eyebrows suggestively. "Not to mention we'll look like we're doing it, which will prevent them from getting suspicious."

She opened her mouth, seeming intent on arguing, but stopped when I sent a warning glare towards her, cutting off her argument short. Our eyes stayed connected for a couple of seconds, giving me a glimpse of the tornado of emotions that was going inside her. Under my glare, her questions melted without being asked. I pushed my hand towards her.

A resigned expression was on her face as her fingers wrapped around mine, her other arm still clutching around her chest, holding her scrapped top against her breasts to hide them from my view. That was not to be borne, of course, so I sent another pointed look at her. "It would be hard to explain that if they walk in, don't you think?" I inquired.

She froze at my words, and for a moment, I had thought that I had pushed her too hard, but then her arm loosened, and the piece of cloth slid down, partially revealing her spectacular breasts. Her nipples were still hidden by her hand, hovering above her breast helplessly, but that just enhanced the eroticism of the scene.

Since she was still waiting to act, I decided to use the opportunity to further my preparation. I pushed my pants down, freeing my legs for further action. Then, I patted my naked leg, inviting her once more. She sent a reluctant glare towards the still-open door, acutely aware of the revealing view she would provide to any passerby, but that glance hadn't lasted for long. Apparently, servicing me under the table while one of the guards stood above us had gone quite a bit loosening her morals.

Bored with her indecision, I decided to solve it once and for all. I wrapped my arm around her waist, and before she could react in a way other than a panicked yelp, pulled her on my lap, trapping my shaft under her skirt, between our bodies. I wanted to hide it inside her, of course, but even with the everything that happened, I didn't think Hermione would be convinced for that. Not yet, at least, I convinced even as I sealed her lips with mine to suppress her reflexive cry.

"What was that," she spat out, angry for the sudden kiss, but she had the presence of the mind to keep her voice low.

"You looked like you were about to cry in panic, and I needed to make sure it wasn't heard," I whispered after I leaned through her bushy hair. She looked ready to argue, but I cut her off. "We can discuss it if you want, but more time we spend on that, the longer you need to stay in this position," I reminded her.

"All right," she said, admitting defeat softly.

"Let's move on the real topic then," I whispered once more, and started a detailed explanation about Voldemort's rule, the areas of operation, prison camps, and troop composition, even his suspicious absence, namely everything that would have been useful if she was a part of the normal resistance effort. But unfortunately, her task was to hunt the immortality baubles of Voldemort, making most of the information I was providing her useless while still proving my readiness to help her.

My hands were not idle while I was giving her those details, roaming over her skin, teasing the sensitive spots I had discovered during the prison cell encounter. And they were turning out to be quite useful especially in her already aroused but confused state. She had done to suppress her whimpers when I dragged my hand along her spine, trying best to ignore the effect of my breath on her ear, but it was in vain. Her body was begging for more…

With all that was going on, I wasn't exactly surprised when her hips started rocking without my input. I had learned that tendency of hers the last time as well. It was barely noticeable at first, but with each repeat, it started to become more apparent. "Slow your hips down, honey," I whispered, cutting down my explanation about the most prominent Death Eaters and their roles.

"What," she gasped in shock, her hips freezing in place, making me suspect that she hadn't noticed that she was doing it in the first place.

I ignored her shock, and continued with my explanation. "Not that I don't respect your dedication to your role, but when you move like that, it's riding up your already short skirt up even further." I pulled back, examining her expression, which seemed to confuse her further as she tried to process why I was making it an issue of it, considering the situation I forced her in. I smirked, and continued my explanation. "Whenever your skirt slides away, it reveals your panties, and it's suspicious for you to still wear panties when we are supposed to look like we're doing to deed."

"But…" she murmured, but no words followed it, unable to process the shifts and turns of the discussion.

"You're right," I answered, treating her errant word as a comprehensive argument in reverse. I was pushing it a bit, but it wasn't like she was in a position to notice logical fallacies like that. "We need to make sure to give an impression of passion, and the movement of your hips is vital for that. But still, we need to find a solution for that," I followed, pausing for a moment to give the impression of deep thought despite already reaching to the letter opener that had served me well when I had been trying to get rid of her bra.

"Don't do it," she said when she realized what I was reaching for, but it was too late. One of my arms were still around her waist, cutting any chance of pulling back while my other hand managed a more literal process of cutting.

Her expression of outrage was delicious as I cut her panties to pieces, enough that she was willing to ignore the fact that my shaft was pressing against her naked skin in favor of opening her mouth in preparation of an exclamation. I had no intention of allowing her to do that. "Someone is coming," I warned her. Of course, they were coming only because of the small message I had sent a moment ago, but in the grand scheme of things, that didn't matter much. I dropped the letter opener on the ground, and slid my emptied hand through her hair, tugging hard while my other hand slid under her skirt, clamping on her naked skin.

Distracted by the situation, her hips picked up the direction I was giving by pushing her up and down. Soon, she was gliding across my length, tempting me to take the final step. And when one of the guards stepped inside, not even bothering to knock thanks to the open door, I decided it was finally the time.

"Sir, do you have a minute," the guard said. I could feel Hermione stiffen on my lap, unable to handle the sudden presence of another voyeur, especially since discounting her flimsy skirt that had trouble staying in place, she was completely naked.

"Of course, explain," I answered even as I pulled from the kiss, looking at him over Hermione's shoulder. Meanwhile, I moved my other hand on her hip as well. I lifted her up, higher than I had ever done during our session, so much that the altitude of her entrance passed the crown of my shaft, before I suddenly changed the direction, slamming my shaft deep inside her. She realized what was about to happen fraction of a second before it actually did, but it was too late for her to reverse it. Not that she had any such ambition if I was reading her expression correctly.

I ignored the guard's explanation, my attention split between the amazing sensation I was experiencing as my shaft was wrapped with her walls, extremely tight despite her wetness, and her expression, turning into an erotic bundle of shock, anger, resignation, and even arousal, all wrapped by a thick layer of unexpected carnal pleasure.

I didn't need to see her expression to know that she wanted to react negatively in a way that had a likelihood to include violence, but her hands were tied with the presence of the guard in the room — figuratively of course, though thinking that created a beautiful vision of her, naked other than a Gryffindor tie around her wrist, neatly packing her for my attention. I took a note to actually try it in a later date, maybe when I bring her to a 'date' to apologize for my current outreach, taking her virginity in such a brute manner.

Her expression told me that she was split on losing her virginity. On the one hand, taking such an intimate step in front of an observer — one that was little more than a plant with all the magic I pumped into his brain, as I was too possessive to allow anything else; a bit of public teasing was fine, but I wouldn't allow a voyeur to watch as. A male one at least, I was much less negative about the voyeurs of the female variety. On the other hand, she failed to hide the rush of pleasure that invaded her body as I finally break through the barrier that kept her away from the full realization of pleasure, one that her body, trained to perfection during the last month, was begging for incessantly.

And the results of all that training started to show as the time rolled. Despite the awkwardness of the situation, she started showing the hints of getting into the action. The first to join the dance was her lips. With her head already buried on my neck to hide her face from the guard, her lips were close to my neck. Soon, I felt her teeth clamping on my skin hard enough to actually hurt. She might have thought as a punishment, but there was no hiding the passion behind it.

Her hips joined soon after, starting to move on their power rather than relying on my pushes, her tightness traversing my length repeatedly. She bit my neck even harder, suggesting that I wasn't the only one that was getting overwhelmed with the sensation. It was useful that she was too distracted with my presence to pay attention to the discussion between me and the guard, I thought, as I was having trouble maintaining even a semblance of reason in that discussion, spouting random words, my mind occupied by the delicious way she was wrapped around my girth.

It was for barely a minute that she was jumping up and down on my lap when she suddenly tightened even further, in a way that I would have recognized as a particularly strong orgasm even if it wasn't for her window-shattering cries and free-flowing juices. Frankly, it was a miracle that I managed to keep myself from releasing at that exact second, leaving me free to enjoy the way she went limp on my lap.

But while it was tempting to send the guard away and enjoy the way she was lazing on my lap, I had a better idea in mind. I tightened my grip around the small of her back, and then stood up while my shaft was still inside her. The panic broke through her haze when I did so, especially when I weakened my grip around her waist, and she started to topple backward until her back touched to my desk, though not hard enough to hurt. And all the while, my shaft was stuffed deep inside her, shuffling with the motion.

It took a second for her to realize that in that position, there was nothing to hide her breasts from the guard that was sharing the room with us. She opened her mouth to argue, but I chose that moment to slam inside her mercilessly, turning her words to a hopeless moan. She didn't have a chance of resisting that pleasure, especially when her body was still dealing with the aftershocks of her previous climax.

Her arms crossed on top of her chest in an effort to hide what little modesty she had, which left me free to impale her to my heart's content, each repeat filling the room with the sound of flesh hitting flesh, the cracking filling the room. I kept my eyes firmly on her face, but she didn't return the courtesy, too busy turning towards the guard that was still in the room, watching her with a facsimile of arousal. I was lucky that she was too distracted to notice the glassy look in his eyes.

"You can go now," I said to the guard without slowing down the pace. It was an amusing trick, but I was getting bored with it. I wanted her attention back to me. "And don't forget to close the door behind you."

The guard nodded and left the room, leaving Hermione free to turn her gaze back to me, anger trying to flicker in her eyes. Unfortunately for her, it failed to do so, doused by the warm waters of her pleasure, rising constantly. "Bastard," she managed to say between moans. "Stop."

I don't think I would have been able to do that even if her words had carried any hint of determination behind them. But as the things stood, two measly words were nothing against her body language, or the amazing way she squeezed me with each push. "Sorry, sweetie," I answered. "You are just too damn sexy to resist." I was amused to notice that a blush exploded on her face despite the ridiculousness of the situation. "And look at the bright side," I continued, acting like I wasn't on the edge of exploding. "We thoroughly managed to convince them about your reason of visiting."

She opened her mouth to say something, but I never learned what she was planning to say, as my resistance chose that exact moment to give in, painting her insides white, with an errant drop sliding out. "No, not that!" she exclaimed as she tried to pull back.

"Ops," I said, but I keep a hold of her legs to prevent her from sliding away as I pumped her insides until I run dry, and she was limp with the pleasure, keeping her from pushing the point in a more physical manner. Only then I pulled back, sitting on my chair, with an excellent view as she just lay on the desk, trying to catch her breath, my gift slowly ooze between her legs while she tried to build up her anger.

I had a feeling that the next few minutes was going to be fun.

* * *

 **Author notes: And our bushy-haired heroine goes through another chapter in her lesson on perils of being a spy, this time with a rather important milestone.**

 **Also, just a reminder. My first book is out at Amazon, under the title of 'Dominating the Boss'. If you like my writing and have an Amazon account, give a try. It's also registered for KDP.** **(dp/B07RT2GZH7 is the link if you can't find it through search). And don't forget to leave a review in Goodreads if you like.**


	19. Chapter 19

There was a certain satisfaction watching Hermione's reaction as I leaned back on my chair. At first, I was expecting an explosive display of anger from her, but instead, she tried to pull herself in a sitting position, which proved harder than she had been thinking after our rather intimate embrace, leaving her with trembling limbs.

On her face, I could see tendrils of anger that was trying to form, but they failed to attain success. It wasn't a huge shock. With the state of her emotions, actively manifesting one while erasing the others was near impossible. After all, during the last hour, she had run through a plethora of challenges that pushed her significantly out of her comfort zone. Being forced to visit a prison while dressed like a stripper was tough, but not as tough as being forced to act like one. Not even a classy one with no touch rule, but in a seedy joint where the customer had the total control over her body…

Ultimately, first losing her clothes, then her virginity, to her schoolyard nemesis didn't make things easier to process. Then, from her perspective, there was the voyeur guard that had been a witness to everything, unaware that he was under imperius. And to top off everything, there was the small gift that I had left in the confines of her body.

No, her difficulty in processing her emotions was not a surprise.

I didn't even bother putting my penis back in my pants, choosing to start speaking instead. "So, I think we were talking about the prison camps," I murmured in a casual manner, picking up from where our discussion had been left-off. And just like that, astonishment had been added to her face, reminding her status as a spy for the forces of light. "One of the biggest camps are located in…"

But even as I moved through the explanation about Dark Lord's power logistics, most of my attention was on her body and her reactions. Her body, because she looked spectacular, wearing nothing but a miniskirt, fishnets, and heeled shoes, her otherwise naked body marred with my attention, capped with a gentle mix of our bodily fluid, dribbling down from between her legs… All around, the view was delicious enough that a certain part of my body was working overtime to come back to life.

I was two minutes into the discussion about the spread of the various prison camps over the country when Hermione managed to break through her haze, enough to right herself on the table, her legs crossed, her arms around her chest in an attempt to hide her breasts, which was a bit late as far as her modesty was concerned. Despite her expression, charged with anger, it took another few minutes to gather enough presence of mind to speak. "Stop," she whispered, her voice coming out more vulnerable than she was planning if her follow-up expression was any indicator.

"Was I not clear enough about the locations," I countered casually. "I was hoping that you will be able to keep all of it in mind. I can draw a map as well, but that seems like an unnecessary risk. A witch with your smarts should be able to handle it-" I said, playing misunderstanding angle about her reflex until she managed to cut me off.

"It's not that," she murmured with a hint of outrage. I had an amused expectation that her outrage was more about questioning her memorization capability than anything else. After a deep breath, she continued with a freshly sparked outrage. "We need to talk about what you have just done!"

"What about it?" I said in an exaggerated casualness.

"What about it!" she repeated, her anger tinged with shock. "How can you ask me that?"

"By opening my mouth, apparently," I said.

"You!" she spat. Fed with my casualness, her anger flared even more, enough to distract her from some peripheral details, like why her arms were wrapped around her chest. She pushed herself off the table and on her feet, her arms high with an angry gesture. But my attention was on her breasts, freed from their temporary support, tumbling temptingly.

Tempting enough to make me adjust my plans. Initially, I had been planning to let her put a show of anger until the edge wore off, but I stoop up sharply instead. With my face just an inch away from hers, her next words lay forgotten. "Me!" I answered her with a distorted echo.

I took a small step forward, and she took a larger one back. I took another, and this time, my desk, which had already been an excellent facilitator for our earlier activities, turned out to be helpful once more, and prevented her retreat. Before she could escape sideways, I put my arms on both sides of her, cutting her escape. She could have forced her way away, but as I expected, she didn't even try it.

I leaned forward until I could feel her warmth over my skin, but avoided actual touch, choosing to hover a small distance away. "You want to know why I did what I did? That why I took you on the same desk that you're leaning helplessly, something that would require only a push to repeat…" As I spoke, emotions danced on her face, fear, panic, desperation, and most importantly, arousal…

She shook her head helplessly, but at this point, I had no intention of stopping my explanation. "I take the easy road and claim that it was just to protect my role as a spy, but that would be a lie," I said even as I slid my fingers through her bushy hair, but let my fingers hang limply. "The answer is simple. I wanted it. I wanted you."

"Why?" she said in the form of a fragile whisper, a touch away from crumbling, her earlier outrage evaporated completely. All it would take was one bad answer to make her shatter completely.

"It's simple," I said even as I leaned further, my lips close to hers as well, using a husky voice. "You're a beautiful, smart, determined, and passionate woman, and all together, these qualities make you downright sexy, an object of desire, one that I needed to stay away from because of the stupid role I had to play back in Hogwarts." I could feel the drivel I was spewing was working as intended, breaking her already damaged balance completely.

"Can you imagine my torture," I continued as I hardened my hold on her hair. Her mouth opened, but the gasp she let out was a gasp that wouldn't be amiss in an erotic movie. "Sharing the same corridors with such a majestic beauty, only to stay away because of all that pureblood nonsense. Can you really blame me for taking the chance when I saw it?"

"No," she whispered. Hypnotized by my monologue, she didn't seem to be entirely in her right mind as she gave her answer, but I wasn't a gentleman, so I used the opportunity to close the remaining distance between our bodies. I could see her mouth opening in alarm but my lips smashed against hers, preventing her from saying anything.

The kiss finally cut through the haze she had been under, but it was too late. Her hands found my chest, but it wasn't surprising for her to lack the power to push me back. My tongue, ravaging her mouth mercilessly, was an excellent distraction excuse.

I put my hands on her chest as well, mirroring her latest action, though my intention was not to push her away. Instead, my fingers sank into her amazing globes once more, treating me with another portion of the amazing dessert I had already sampled. She tried to say something, but in the situation we were sharing, it came out as a mangled mess. In response, I squeezed her tits harder, converting it to a cry that I suppressed with my lips.

Happy with the impact, I pulled back from the kiss even as I squeezed her tits mercilessly once more, forcing a boundless cry off her lips. This time, without a barrier to muffle, it echoed off the walls. "Somebody is enjoying herself," I said.

"N-no-" she tried to argue, but it wasn't really effective after I squeezed her breast, forcing yet another moan off her.

Immediately after, one of my hands moved down and slipped under her skirt, caressing her folds, sopping wet with arousal. "Don't lie to me," I ordered with a sharp smirk even as one of my fingers slipped inside her.

"I'm not - lying!" she said, interrupted by a gasp and followed by another moan as I added two more fingers inside her, pumping her mercilessly. I didn't even bother to answer her question, choosing to lean forward instead. I sneaked my lips to the nook of her neck, nibbling her neck gently, an approach that contrasted greatly with the merciless pumping I had been delivering with my finger.

"Detention for telling such an obvious lie, Miss Granger," I said after pulling back, though my hands were still at work. "You need to pay better attention to your body, because it seems to have no problem contradicting your words." I pulled my hand out of her tunnel, still glistening with her juices, and brought it to her face. "Does it look like you're not enjoying it."

"But… I don't…" she murmured in confusion, for once failing to string a coherent argument together.

It was a mistake, of course, as I had no issues in using the opportunity to discreetly change position until I was standing between her legs, parted earlier during the assault of my fingers. "Convincing rebuttal," I said mockingly. "We should have created a debate team back in school. You would have been the star of it."

Funny enough, the insult against her academic capabilities worked much better in dispelling her confusion, replacing it with a spark of anger. Unfortunately, she had missed the significance of our relative positioning, at least until I pushed my hips forward, sheathing myself in her wet tunnel once more. "No! Not again!" she exclaimed. Naturally, I ignored it in favor of pushing my full length inside her, leveraging her looseness thanks to our earlier session, and the rest of her argument melted into a pleasure-filled cry.

"Come on, little lioness," I said even as I pumped inside her mercilessly. "Isn't it a bit late to act like you're not enjoying it. We both know the truth of the matter, that the attraction is not a one-way street. Why are you bothering to deny it?"

"No, it's not true," she replied with alarm. A display of panic even greater than the time I took her virginity, which would have revealed her attraction if I hadn't already engineered it in the first place.

"Really?" I said even as I pushed inside her sharply once more, my hands roaming freely over her body, leaving my mark over her skin. "So, you're telling me that you didn't have any fantasies where I bend you down on a desk in the library, or corner you in a dark corridor, and teaching you the meaning of respect."

"What! How do you-" she started before her explanation came to a sudden stop. "I mean, no, of course not," she said, trying to recover her explanation, but it didn't work very well.

"Come on, honey," I said even as I took her nipple between my finger, gently holding it for a moment before suddenly twisting, just hard enough to be painfully erotic. "Didn't I already tell you that you're bad at lying. Now, truth please."

She tried to meet my eyes with a rebellious gaze, but as she was learning it, it was really hard to do against someone that was pumping her insides mercilessly. "Yes," she murmured in defeat. "I occasionally dream about you."

"See, was that too hard," I said even as I slid my hand between her hair, gently directing her to look into my eyes. "Now, why don't you tell one of these stories to me."

She looked reluctant at first, but when I tightened my grip on her hair warningly, her approach changed significantly. "It was in the library, and you were the head boy…" she started, telling the fake-dream I had set up for her in great detail. It wasn't a smooth tale, sometimes broken by her shyness, but more often, by her gasps, as I continued to impale her through her explanation.

I picked up the pace as she told the tale of how I used chains to wrap her body in her 'dream'. Interestingly, she didn't try to lie, other than a few details which probably changed in her mind after the weeks that passed between the encounter. Or it was entirely possible that she had a repeat of the dream. I wouldn't blame her, as it was quite good as far as the fantasies went.

"Damn, that was an excellent dream," I said when she finished the story while continuing to impale her. "It's a miracle that I managed to keep myself from cumming."

"Not inside," she yelped in panic, but her escape route was cut by my desk, so she kept her position.

"Come on, sweetie, I already did it once. What's the harm," I said cheekily.

"Not inside," she repeated, this time firmer, encouraged by the levity of my reply.

I kept my gaze even, and her determination was quick to show the signs of melting. After several seconds, I spoke. "Okay, I'll warn you before the climax," I said.

"Promise me you'll actually pull back," she said, forcing the issue.

"Whatever you want, sweet cheeks. I promise I'll pull out," I said, letting her have a false victory rather than an extended argument. She nodded, satisfied.

Of course, I had no intention of giving even an illusion of victory without a payment. I grabbed her hands and led them towards my shoulders. "Pull tighter," I said. She looked at me with reticence, but when my smile tightened, she was quick to comply. My reason for doing so was simple. I wanted her to take a more active role in our embrace. And while I would have preferred for her to ride me in a reverse cowgirl position in a reckless abandon, but there was still some work to be done until we could reach that point.

After another few minutes, and my resistance was about to crumble. "It's time for a creampie," I said with a smirk as I grabbed her hips tight, cutting any chance of her escape.

"Wait-" she tried to warn, only to cut short when I slammed my lips against hers in another searing kiss. Shocked by the sudden intimacy, her resistance faltered for a moment, allowing me to fill her up once more. Realizing that the opportunity to escape had passed, she stayed passively, trying to hide her frustration.

"That was nice," I said casually as I pulled back, but only after making sure that I had deployed every last drop inside her.

She looked at me with trembling eyes, and if I wasn't familiar with her expression, I might have mistaken in for being about to cry. Her frustration was easy to see, but the guilty enjoyment, I was able to catch only because of my familiarity. "You came inside me, again," she said.

"Yes," I answered smugly, intentionally keeping close.

"But… You promised," she murmured.

"I lied," I answered smugly. An expression of outrage passed through her face, though mixing with her naked state and her marred skin, it just made her sexier. I leaned in for a quick peck, cutting off her angry statement. "I have already explained it to you. I want you, and I will not let something as silly of honesty to prevent it."

She tried to come up with an answer, but my shameless acceptance seemed to work better than anything other I might come up with. "We have less than an hour until the shift change. We can continue to argue about how and why I chose to pump you full with my seed, or I can explain to you about the location and the guard schedules of the prison camps for the muggleborn. Your choice."

My crassness seemed to push her towards another spiral of shyness. It took several seconds for her to answer. "Prison camps," she murmured in defeat. While she tried to answer, I sat back once more, while she chose to sit on my desk once more, her legs firmly shut to prevent a glimpse into her nether lips, though she seemed to miss the fact that it also trapped my seed inside her.

While I was hoping for her to give me some clues about Voldemort's little trinkets of immortality, the fact that she didn't wasn't surprising. Our earlier embrace was confusing enough for her, and even if she was inclined to open up about her most dangerous secret, she probably wanted to make sure my information about the prison camps were correct before moving forward.

"I think I was explaining the guard schedule for the forest camp…" I said, launching another length explanation about some of the most dangerous secrets of Death Eaters. Accurate information like that was even more dangerous in the magical world, where a dedicated attack force could appear, attack, and retreat in less than a minute under a sharp leadership. And while so-called Order lacked in effectiveness front, the people that worked for Death Eaters, especially ones guarding the camps that deemed low-priority.

As I explained the guard schedules, I saw Hermione reach down for her damaged top, but my fingers wrapped around her wrist before she could grab it. "What are you doing?" I asked.

"Reaching for my clothes," she answered, trying to sound belligerent, but the impression was ruined by the tremble in her tone.

"And what if a guard suddenly decides to visit," I countered. "Do you actually want to blow our cover." She failed to answer, ducking her head down like she was getting scolded by a professor. "We better seem to be still working, otherwise they would ask why I didn't send you away after finishing." And just like that, I pulled her on my lap, leveraging my grip around her wrist.

She tried to escape, but I wrapped my arm around her waist, preventing her escape. "Keep calm if you don't want to awaken the junior," I warned, which was enough for her to stop moving. "Excellent, now, make sure to give the impression of a loving girlfriend, maybe some kisses on my neck or something." She looked at me at horror, and I smirked. "Just to get the details right."

Her conflict lasted a moment before she let out a defeated sigh, and brought her lips on my neck. I continued my explanation while my hands continued to explore her body, gently sliding over her spine. She kept to my warning and stopped wiggling, but that didn't prevent my shaft from awakening a minute later. I marked it as a success when she made no sound of protest when I slid inside her once more, slowly exploring her insides once more as I continued my explanation about the guard schedules.

Being a double-agent turned out to be even more fun than I had been expecting!


	20. Chapter 20

The few days after my encounter with Hermione passed in a blur. To my surprise, Hermione had leveraged the information I had prepared for her about the death eater encampments, or managed to bring it to correct people, and three prison camps were hit simultaneously while guards exchanged duty, capturing several low-level grunts while saving the prisoners. Because of that, all Death Eaters were running around panicked, trying to detect the information leak, and catch the parties responsible.

It would have worried me if I hadn't foreseen that detail and only used information I had gleaned from other Death Eaters, but even that was done carefully. I had picked a victim, Nott Senior, and only given the information that he had access, so if one of the Death Eaters somehow managed to show a morsel of intelligence and track the information, it wasn't going to be me with the egg -or a certain bright green spell which Voldemort had the tendency to throw around like expired candy- on my face.

I hadn't been expecting Hermione to use all of the information, but maybe after everything that happened, she wanted to prove herself that her 'suffering and sacrifices' for not in vain. Still, it was a good sign that she did, because now that she had seen the usefulness of it, she would probably initiate another contact, which would lead to some interesting spying encounters. Not to mention that I still needed her to open up about Voldemort's immortality, giving me the excuse to go forward destroying that monstrous abomination.

But before that, I needed a way to get rid of my stress, which was caused by all the bustling around due to the latest prison crisis. Hermione was out, needing some more time to get back her balance, so that I could have fun toppling it once more. But thankfully, she wasn't my only option. There was a sexy blonde that was deprived of my attention for a long while.

It was already evening, and my sexy blonde witch was likely at home, preparing a dinner for the man that was supposed to be her husband before I meddled it enough to reduce that status to legal fiction. Even more conveniently, I had access to her home wards, so nothing was preventing me from teleporting there for a quick visit.

A muffled crack later, I was in the garden of the Shell Cottage, a small, boring place that could never measure up to Fleur's majesty. But that was a problem for later, I admitted as I wrapped the invisibility cloak I had swiped from Potter, and a silencing spell later, I didn't exist as far as any observer was concerned.

I sneaked in through the front door, which was not locked, nor had a special ward, relying on the perimeter ward to keep an intruder away. A horrible lapse in the security in the times we were in. They trusted their wards too much. I sighed and put a few subtle alert wards in the house that would warn me in case of an attack. Death Eaters stopped raiding after their takeover, but there was no guarantee that they wouldn't restart after the camp raids, and I had no intention of losing my sexy toy in an accident.

With my task complete, I silently slipped inside, only to see William Weasley sitting in the living room, listening to radio, a glass of firewhiskey on his hand, and Daily Prophet sprawled open in front of him. I just stopped there enough to make sure my compulsion charms were in place, enhancing his anger and impatience towards Fleur while making sure he would never attempt anything other than some groping. I didn't want my angel to be sullied by that ginger waste of space.

After making sure that everything was in order, I put a compulsion charm to make sure he would be extraordinarily interested in his newspaper, to the point he wouldn't bother to check even if he heard some noises that could be construed as distracting. With that done, I moved deeper into the house, following the noise. As I walked, I removed my cloak and dispelled my silencing charm. After all, I had no need to hide myself from my blonde angel.

I found Fleur in the kitchen, her back turned to the door, busy with the plates in front of her, trying to cook a rather elaborate dinner. Considering that I didn't get a committed housewife vibe from her, I was willing to bet that it was her way of compensating for all the adventures we had together. Not a bad deal, I presumed, Weasley got his precious food, I got his precious wife, and Fleur got the pleasure she deserved.

Everyone was happy.

The only problem was the way she dressed, gray sweatpants, thick and loose enough to hide her delectable derriere, and a sweatshirt of the same color and structure. The only bit of color was the frilly pink apron that she wore, and her hair was gathered in a simple ponytail. Still, considering she thought Bill as her only audience, her lack of preparation was acceptable. The less she tried to show-off for her husband, the happier I was.

I sneaked towards her until I was behind her, and waited until she wasn't holding anything sharp or steaming, then cupped her bottom rather hungrily. "I told you not to touch me-" she spat in a palpable aura of anger as she turned, her hand finding my shoulder to violently push me away before she could even complete the turn.

I grabbed her hand and pulled her closer. Unprepared for the sudden move, she failed to resist, and found herself in my embrace, her words cut short as her eyes grew wide in shock. I didn't give her a chance to gather her wits, and caught her lips in a heated kiss, preventing her from saying anything.

My training must have been effective enough, because her lips joined the dance, following my lead, before she the shock on her eyes could drain, her movements getting smoother with every tick of the clock.

It took a while for her to process the fact that we were kissing in her kitchen, while her husband was just a corridor away, and panic empowered her just enough to push me away. Not hard enough that I couldn't resist, but I let her succeed, not willing to miss the amusement value of the scene. "Draco," she whispered furiously. "What are you doing here!"

She kept her position while saying that, a tactical mistake on her part. I closed in slightly, and put my arms on the counter, on both sides of her, cutting off her escape route. "I decided to make a surprise visit to my favorite blonde," I said, then pouted comically. "Aren't you glad?"

"You can't be here," she murmured. "My hu- William is just a room away," she added, a guilty expression appearing on her face as she almost referred to the man with a title he didn't deserve.

"So, you're not happy to see me?" I asked. She immediately froze when I put her to the spot.

"No, I'm not," she managed to murmur after a visible struggle, her attempt to lie too poor to actually anyone, especially me.

"Really," I said, letting my smirk widen to clue her about her rather poor acting. "You don't seem really convinced. How about we check with a neutral party?" She looked at me questioningly, while I used that opportunity to slide my arm around her waist. "Your body, of course," I said, bringing my other hand towards her face, my fingers over her lips, tracing softly. A trembling gasp escaped her mouth.

My fingers slipped down, caressing her neck on the way until pausing on her chest, while my lips replaced the position previously held by my fingers, leaving a soft, fleeting kiss. Her heart started thumping furiously under my fingertips. "It doesn't feel like you're dissatisfied. So, do you want to try answering that question again?"

She stayed silent for a couple seconds, but then sighed in defeat, and let her body relax, pressing against mine. "I missed you," she murmured, though it seemed like that admittance exhausted her. She wrapped her arms around my neck and leaned for a kiss on her own volition. Her admittance was expected, but the kiss, delivered by her, was less so, not that it prevented me from enjoying it. On the contrary, I stopped the rest of my plan for a moment, in favor of enjoying the soft, lingering touch of her lips.

Her allure rose softly, wrapping around me like a soft blanket, enhancing my pleasure even further. Her hands found my back, her gentle caresses adding a perverse romance to the moment. For a moment, I was tempted to just apparate her to my bedroom, taking her in a slow, sensuous manner that she deserved. But there was only one problem for that.

"I was planning to bring you to a nice date," I started, pulling away from the kiss that lingered for minutes. Her face brightened, but then I spoke again. "But then, you had to go and lie about not missing my presence."

"But-" she started, the sudden panic on her face making the moment even more delicious. I pressed my finger to her lips, cutting her off.

"No buts. You told me a lie, and as a consequence, earned your punishment." I stopped for a second, like I was thinking seriously. A silence that stretched for a while after I saw the fleeting glance of panic on her face, and wanted to enhance it even more. "Maybe I should just turn and leave…" I mused, letting the silence to drag…

"No!" she exclaimed in panic, an instinctual response that proved just how far I had come in making her mine. I had sneaked in her home while her husband was in the living room, and for her, my leaving was still a punishment.

"Is something wrong, Fleur," came a shout from the living room, reminding Fleur that she needed to keep her voice down unless she wanted another visitor in the kitchen. It wasn't a real probability, as the spells I had put on him would just allow him to ask occasional questions, but Fleur didn't know that.

"Everything is alright-tt!" Fleur answered her husband, but her voice lost cohesion towards the end as I chose that exact moment to squeeze her ass. "Draco!" she whispered later, but it just made me repeat my action.

We both ignored William's careless response as I turned my gaze on her blue eyes, and she just stared, like a butterfly fascinated by the flame. "Now, on the subject of punishment, you will try to keep silent enough to keep Mr. Weasley unaware of our presence…" I murmured. She didn't understand my meaning until I waved my wand and vanished all of her clothing, except her pink apron.

The sudden change surprised her, so I decided to help her by restarting our kiss, using the second-most delicious method of silencing available. My arms around her now-naked back, I pulled her tight against my body, making her feel my hardness. Her arms were around me in an instant, tightening our embrace even further.

But there was still one problem, my clothes were preventing me from feeling her soft skin over mine. Luckily, it was not a hard problem to fix, another vanishing spell saw to it. Fleur's response was even more beautiful. Her kiss became even more intense as her hands traced my back muscles.

When we broke the kiss, she was panting hard, like she had just run a marathon. I gave her a moment to gather herself, using the opportunity to examine her body. Our kiss had managed to dislodge her apron enough to reveal one of her perfect breasts, though the other one made its presence known through her nipple, hardened with arousal, pressing against the fabric.

"It's good to see you don't have any complications about our game," I said as I suddenly grabbed her hair. The foreplay was over, and the real game was about to begin. After all, it wouldn't be punishment without a bit of roughness.

She was caught surprised by the sudden pull, and a pained yelp escaped her mouth. "Is something wrong," Bill shouted from the living room, but Fleur was unable to answer, because her mouth was otherwise occupied. She tried to push herself back panickedly, but my hands were firmly in place, forcing her to devour my girth instead. She looked up in a pitiful look, fearing that her lack of answer would drive her husband to check her.

I took pity on her and loosened my grip, enough for her to pull back. "My toe hit the corner of the chair-rr!" she explained, once again, the last part of her sentence sprayed in a panicked yelp as I used the opportunity to grasp her breasts, once again losing my fingers in their heavenly firmness.

"Careful, Fleur, you're awful clumsy lately, especially around the kitchen. Maybe you should take my mother's offer and let her teach how to work around the kitchen for a few days."

I was surprised by his response, which, funnily enough, wasn't a result of the spells I had put on him. I didn't know whether he was acting intentionally ostentatious, or he was truly unaware of the hostility between his wife and the rest of his family, but either way, it just worked to my benefit. There was no missing the fact that Fleur hated the suggestion with all of her might.

Fleur suddenly stood up, her face contorted with fury, but rather than reducing her beauty, it added a layer of edgy sexiness that I have never seen on her face. And, after a moment's consideration, I decided that I liked it, especially since it was accompanied by a transformation of her allure as well, turning the previously soft blanket into the flickering flames of arousal, making my blood flood faster.

And it wasn't the only change that had occurred. She put her hands on my shoulders, and pushed me back until I was lying on her kitchen table, which she promptly climbed on as well. "Maybe later, my dear husband," she shouted vindictively even as she aligned herself with my shaft, displaying an unbroken display of initiative for the first time in our twisted relationship.

"Just consider it, you need to learn how to cook better food," Bill shouted back, determined to make my job even easier.

"You mean English food," Fleur answered, somehow managing to compress her utter disregard for English cuisine and the utter loathing she felt against her husband in these four little words, while she was busy sinking herself onto my shaft. A soft gasp escaped her mouth when I decided to help her, and pushed my hips up, filling her up with my presence.

"The same thing," Bill answered, which couldn't have come in a more opportune moment. Insults to the cuisine of her homeland might not be as bad as fucking a man on the kitchen table of their own house, but sometimes, an excuse was all that was needed. Fleur didn't answer, leaving Bill alone with the delusion that he was the victorious one of that verbal sparring, while she focused on her insidious revenge.

She sank herself as deep as she could manage, her face contorted with pain an pleasure. She stayed deep for a moment, enjoying the sensation of being filled before pushing herself up once more, and replicating the move. Soon, she lost her ability to speak as well, her whole attention focused to contain her moans. Meanwhile, I leaned back, enjoying way her breasts danced with every movement in the loose confines of her apron.

As much as I enjoyed watching her dance, waiting passively while she did all the work didn't fit my personality well. I grabbed her bottom, squeezing it hard, forcing her to cry. Just like that, her angry gaze turned at me, tempered with a mischievousness. She raised herself enough to leave my shaft bereft of her warm embrace. "Maybe I should punish you instead, if that's the way you want to play."

My only response was a dark smile, which alerted her that things were about to change just a second before I jumped into the action. I rose to the sitting position with one hurried move, bringing my face just an inch away from hers. Before she could react, my arms were around her waist, and a twist later, she found herself laying on the table, her legs parted to both sides, with my shaft ready to penetration. But it wasn't her nether lips where it was pointing.

It was her puckered hole…

* * *

 **Author notes: And the bet takes an interesting turn. Now, the mystery is whether Fleur will be able to keep her voice down while being challenged in an unexpected way.**

 **Also, I wanted to tell that I have decided to update my plans about this particular story. Initially, I was planning to make Hogwarts section the next chapter of the story, but after some dabbling with planning, and some experimentation, I realized that the story premise doesn't interact well enough to make it interesting. So, I'm going to keep it focused mostly on Fleur and Hermione, but don't worry, there is still a lot to be done before their journey is complete.**

 **As usual, to read my original writing, P/atreon / dirk_grey is the best address. I even put a new original story in Medieval Fantasy setting with some gamer elements, with a small excerpt up in the profile page. Don't forget to check if you find it interesting.**

 **Feel free to leave a review on the comments you have. Unfortunately, I lack time to answer all of them due to my real-life commitments, but you can be sure that I read them and try to factor them in the story development as much as possible.**


	21. Chapter 21

For a moment, I stood motionless, letting her process what was about to happen. Then, when she didn't react, frozen in shock, I touched my wand to cast a spell, which neatly solved the dirtier details, leaving me with the delicious challenge of breaking the last virginity she had.

It was tempting to slide into the promised tightness of her puckered hole, doubly so when I knew her enough to foresee that it would take only a minute for her to get used to my intrusion before joining enthusiastically, but this time, I didn't want a sudden push. No, I wanted her to take action for once, showing that my efforts training her hadn't gone to waste.

She realized the implications of my target a few seconds after the preparation spell had hit. "Mercy," she moaned, her accent flaring at the moment, but there was no hiding her arousal.

"You don't want to do that way?" I asked, putting my weight forward just to make sure there was no misunderstanding about what I was talking about. She shook her head negatively. I could have ignored her desire and gone with a forceful approach, but that would run contrary to my aim, not to mention slowly teasing her until she was mad with desire would be fun, especially with Bill in the other room. "Really?" she said, relieved.

"Of course, you just need to prove your sincerity," I said, which twisted her relieved expression into one of worry. I said nothing else, enjoying her desperation mixed with arousal.

"How?" she asked after a moment, while I used the brief lull in the discussion to vanish her apron, leaving her completely naked. She shivered as the last piece of protection disappeared, but I doubted it was the cold of the room that was responsible, or the stiffness of her nipples had anything to do with the chilly air.

"Simple," I answered even as I leaned forward, which increased the pressure on her puckered hole just a little, enough to underline the situation further. "You just need to stay still for a while. It's not that difficult, right? After all, you're determined that you don't want to do it in that particular way."

"Yes," she murmured, but her determination was already flailing. Rightfully so, considering the ending of our previous bet.

Still, she had given her approval, which was enough for me. I leaned forward while making sure that my waist was locked in place, threatening her last piece of land that hadn't been defiled by my invasion, and captured her lips in a heated kiss, which she responded automatically, her tongue jumping out to battle with mine.

Kissing her was a unique experience. The resentment and shock that marked our earlier kissed had long since faded, leaving its place to a boundless arousal, getting brighter with each meeting. Just from the way her tongue danced in my mouth, I could see that veela's deserved the legends about themselves.

And her body was not too far behind in adapting to pleasure. Her hips joined the dance soon after, moving up and down subtly. I assumed it was reflexive, because she stopped instantly when that motion brought her hips forward a bit, which made me knock at her entrance. I used her shock to my benefit, pushing my tongue forward to dominate her mouth, ravaging it to my heart's content.

She tried to stay passive, but unfortunately for her, she had several obvious tells, informing me about her intensifying arousal, the biggest being her allure, getting out of control once more.

However, at that moment I realized that I had a rather dangerous miscalculation. I had thought that I would be able to resist her allure as easily as the other times, but predictably, it turned out that it was rather hard to resist it when one had a sexy veela underneath him, her naked body rubbing invitingly, her entrance sopping wet with desire, willing to do almost everything. At that moment, it was easy to revisit the decision to make her take action, questioning whether it was worth the wait. At the moment, each second where I hadn't been embracing her fully felt like a huge loss.

I pulled from the kiss for a moment, about to decide that maybe I should leave her anal virginity alone for now. But then, I noticed a victorious expression on her face, and realized that the intensity of her allure wasn't entirely accidental. Cheeky minx, I thought in amusement.

I didn't start punishing her explicitly at that moment for daring to manipulate me. For once, it was good to see her starting to take action on our relationship, however twisted it might be. And moreover, acting obvious to her tactic while countering it with a superior version of it would be much more fun. With that in mind, I raised myself once more, and changed the alignment of my shaft, softly dragging against her nether lips, treating myself to her wet softness.

She immediately tried to push herself forward to impale herself, but I was ready for it, and pulled myself back, foiling her plan. The disappointment on her face was clear, but I interrupted her with a rather hard spank on her bottom, which earned a rather loud cry of her. "Naughty girl," I said. "You remember our deal, right."

Before she could say anything, however, another voice interrupted her. "Another accident, Fleur," Bill called from inside. "If you're going to be that clumsy in the kitchen, maybe we should take my mother's offer and move to the Burrow. And once there, you can finally learn how to cook proper food."

I couldn't help but smirk at Bill's perfect timing, giving Fleur a good mixture of fear and anger. Fear, because she clearly had forgotten that we were still on her kitchen table, and her husband listening to the radio in the living room. Anger, because there was no doubt that living with the Weasley family would be anything but torture for Fleur, yet Bill still pushed for it constantly.

Truly, it seemed that I was doing Bill a favor by taking Fleur off his hands. He was clearly not equipped to handle her.

Fleur's reaction to it was even better. She didn't even bother to answer him, just grabbed my shoulders and pulled me to another kiss. But the real surprise came with the movement of her hips, aligning her puckered hole with my shaft before pushing herself forward, the tightest feeling I had ever experienced enveloping me. It was a small miracle I didn't cream right at that moment, especially when she continued pushing deeper despite her pained moans, loud enough to push through my lips.

"Again, Fleur," Bill shouted once more, this time, his tone patronizing like a teacher who had watched a student failed several times, the exact same way, but insisting to repeat the same action through the sheer stubbornness. A dangerous tone to take against a woman even under normal conditions, and a total disaster under the unique moment we were in.

"Sorry," Fleur shouted in vindication, sarcasm clear in her tone. "You know me, I'm a clutz. It's best if you just ignore my pained cries for tonight. I sat on something sharp, and now it hurts whenever I move my hips."

Bill made a non-committal sound, but took Fleur's admission in its face value, unaware of the confession it carried.

"Idiot," Fleur murmured as she pushed herself even deeper, letting out another cry as almost half of it disappeared into her dark hole. Anyone else trying that would be dealing with tears, but she showed a surprising flexibility. It was probably another advantage of her heritage.

"Well, his loss, my gain," I said with a shrug. "If he is stupid enough to not to know your amazing value, I would be more than happy to take you off his hands permanently."

That words made her stop in shock. Understandable, considering the implications. Until now, regardless of the depravity of the situation, she was under the impression that it was a temporary thing, that I was passing time until I get bored of her; like such thing was possible after getting a taste of her delicious aroma.

She opened her mouth to ask a question, but it was not a moment to ruin the moment with a dry discussion, not when I was already half-enclosed in her tight hole, magically lubricated to perfection. Without warning, I pushed myself forward with a sharp stab until my shaft disappeared from the view completely, and earned another pained cry, but paying its dividend in pleasure.

I decided to reward her obedience with staying still for a moment, letting her stretch enough that my presence wouldn't be as painful. But yet again, my slutty angel managed to surprise me by wrapping her legs around my waist before starting to move.

As a gentleman, it would be rude to ignore such an enthusiastic invitation, so I started moving back and forth inside her, enjoying the resulting friction. Her pained yelps slowly lost their intensity as she got used to my presence. "Do you like it when I take you just a few meters away from the pathetic waste of space that thinks himself as your husband, slut," I murmured. "Do you?"

"Yes," she moaned, not bothering to suppress her voice, but even that wasn't as noticeable as her allure, spreading in thick waves as she lost control of her voice.

"Do you care what he would do if he feels thirsty and decides to get a glass of water?" I asked.

She managed to snort in amusement despite the charged situation. "Right, like he would lift his lazy ass to come here instead of ordering me to bring," she said, choosing to show her resentment by pulling me even deeper inside her.

"Then maybe we should visit him," I said as I pulled out, my words shocking her enough to make her loosen the wrapping of her legs. While she was dealing with her shock, I grabbed her hand and pulled her up. Her dance training took over her reflexes, and we were wrapped in a simple dance stance.

Not one to miss such an opportunity, I raised her hand, leading her to a dance move that would make her twirl two times before returning to the starting position, but the second turn, I interrupted by a forward step, sliding inside her tight hole once again, which managed to earn another cry thanks to the unfamiliar angle.

I pushed, and despite her trembling, she managed to take a step forward, but needed me to grab her arms to prevent her from falling down. I wished that I had set up a camera to record the moment, as it deserved to be immortalized from multiple angles, but luckily, pensieve was always an option.

"Move forward, my slutty angel," I said, underlining my order with a slap to her bottom. She sent an uncertain glare towards the door, then to my face, like she was trying to make a monumental decision -in a way, she was- and took another step, this time without a push from my end. It seemed that she finally made a decision.

I pulled her arms closer, and shifted grabbing them with only one hand, reaching my wand with the other, ready to cast a spell on Bill when he noticed our status. The last thing I needed was to notice him before I do and disarm me, making me lose the alliance of the Elder Wand.

Walking down the corridor was an amazing experience. Despite the pleasure she was feeling, Fleur stiffened further the closer we got to her husband -in a legal sense, at least- which made her hole even tighter. Another small miracle occurred when Fleur managed to hold her moans at a manageable level, low enough to avoid detection. Unfortunately, I sped up due to her tightness, the sound of flesh hitting flesh filled the corridor…

Unusual enough for Bill to actually break through the weak distraction spell I had placed on him. The way his eyes widened large enough to pop out was amusing. "Fleur!" he gasped in shock.

"Honey, why don't you give a wave to your husband," I said, not even needing to add a mocking twist at the last word, it would be overkill under the circumstances. And, much to my surprise, Fleur did so, followed by a loud moan. She was even more gone than I had suspected, not that I had any problem with it.

Her vulgarity managed to break Bill out of his shock, and he tried to reach his wand, fumbling drunkenly. Even without that unexpected assistance, I was ready, and nailed him with a disarming charm, followed by ropes. A levitation spell later, he was comfortably sitting on the seat, and I also put a gag on his mouth, preventing him from making any noise. His function was strictly observatory.

With that done, I continued to walk, pushing myself into Fleur's tight hole deeper in each step, until we arrived at the seat directly across Bill, giving him an excellent vantage point. He deserved to sample his wife's amazing sexual skills once, even if it was indirectly.

I didn't pull out even when I was sitting, just wrapped my hands around her waist and pulled her alongside. A nice jolt of pleasure I experienced when, with the momentum of the movement, Fleur sank even deeper onto my shaft, giving me a five-star experience of her tighthole. "Your husband deserves a show, right, sweetie?" I said even as I loosened the grip around her waist and leaned back.

"That's exactly what he deserves," Fleur spat, and started moving up and down enthusiastically, a victorious expression on her face as she kept her gaze on her husband.

Bill might not be the best husband, but it was clear that he didn't deserve as much. But an interesting trick of psychology helped me amazingly here. After cheating him with me, Fleur's subconscious had been looking for an excuse to justify her disloyalty, and escalating everything Bill did in her mind, managing to do much more than my spells could achieve.

Sometimes, the mind was more interesting than anything magic could achieve.

"Really, honey," I said as I leaned back, continuing to enjoy the sensation of Fleur's tight hole simultaneously with the conceptual enjoyment of the total domination. "He seems like a nice guy, if a bit childish. What exactly made you that angry?"

The combination of arousal, excitement, and the pressure of the rather scandalous moment we were sharing worked better than a large bottle of wine to unlock her tongue. She spun a long monologue on Bill's faults, some real but exaggerated, the others completely imaginary, but nevertheless, it worked wonders; each slamming in his psyche with the full strength of a sledgehammer, cracking his mind.

And I wasn't standing lazily at that moment. My wand was dancing at an angle outside of Fleur's field of vision, rewriting Bill's thought process as much as possible. It would be inconvenient for him to disappear completely, so I was aiming to make him do the next best thing. After tonight, he would decide to take an international assignment to Egypt, where he would spend his time exploring the ancient tombs while trying to process the derailment of his life — a process that would take years if the spells hold as much as I intended.

"I'm about to cum," I whispered into Fleur's ear, who was still busy raining insults against Bill.

"Let's not waste it then," she said as she pulled out with a smooth movement and turned towards me, only for her nether lips to devour my shaft a moment later, and I started spraying inside her. That moment was enough to trigger a climax, stronger than anything else I had experienced from Fleur, her allure spreading thick as I filled her insides.

She collapsed onto my lap, shivering, barely conscious. I sent a glance towards Bill, whose desperation complete as he watched his wife enthusiastically embracing a different man in the most intimate way possible. Trusting my other spells to work as intended, I dispelled the ropes around him. He reached for his wand, and after one last shell-shocked glance, he apparated away.

"Shall we visit the bedroom for the main course," I whispered into Fleur's ear, who was too preoccupied with her pleasure to take note of the disappearance of her former husband.

"Yes," she said, but instead of stepping off my lap, she wrapped even tighter around my body, with my manhood still hidden inside her. It wasn't hard to guess what she had in mind, so after a moment where I caught my breath, which also gave my erection enough time to turn back to life.

Then, I jumped up to my feet, with my slutty angel still on my lap, her legs firmly wrapped around my waist. My destination, her marriage bed, to defile it even further, marking my conquest complete…

* * *

 **Author Notes: And with that, Fleur's surrender is truly complete, both physically and emotionally. I hope everyone enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it. It doesn't mean that it's the last time we see Fleur, of course. On the contrary, she will have an increased**

 **Also, I have an idea for an OC-One Piece story that is burning in my mind, but I'm not sure whether to start it right now, or the finish the ones currently in process right now. Both path has its advantages and drawbacks. What do you guys and gals think?**

 **As usual, my original writing can be found in P/atreon / dirk_grey.**


	22. Chapter 22

It took three days for me to leave Fleur, three days that had been filled with almost unbroken marathon of sex, even to sleep, relying on stamina potions and several magics bordering illegal to keep our bodies powered, and even then, I doubted it would have worked if I hadn't been using the power of Elder Wand to power those spells.

Three days of passion, untouched by arousal-enhancing spells or mental tweaks, that regardless that had done more to cement Fleur's loyalty to me and my cause, including the fact that I was the leak that was supplying the Order with critical information on Death Eater movements; though the last part didn't exactly surprise her since she knew that I was the one that killed Yaxley.

Of course, I was careful in omitting certain critical details, such as the identity of my contact in the order, or the exact details of the concessions I had extracted in payment for the valuable information I had provided. I had a feeling that she wouldn't be understanding if she even suspected the similarities between her earlier sacrifices.

Currently, I was walking on a crowded street in Muggle London, the sidewalk crowded by quite a number of ladies, every single one of them except one -the agent I was supposed to meet- a member of the oldest profession of the world, each dressed more revealing and attention-grabbing than the other…

I ignored their comments and explicit prepositions as I walked towards my target, the one that stood in the corner huddled, her hands clamped around her micro-skirt in an effort to pull it down, but limited by the material, only able to pull it down enough to hide her underwear; her legs, covered with fishnets, free for all to wear. Who could have guessed that the resident bookworm of the Gryffindor tower would have made such an alluring hooker?

Her top wasn't much better, a deep cleavage going in the middle, revealing the presence of a bright-red bra that hadn't covered much, and even more revealing back. Though on one side, I could see that her wand was hidden underneath her shirt. It didn't allow quick drawing, unfortunately, that was the only place available to hide her wand.

Since she hadn't noticed me, I chose to slunk to a corner, watching Hermione as she tried to explain to occasional hopeful customer that she wasn't on the market, trying to convince them that she already had an arrangement with a different customer, but stammering badly while doing that, sending the hopeful man away with disappointed and angry expressions.

I sneaked behind her while she was trying to send away a particularly sticky candidate without much success, her awareness fallen low. Her awareness lowered, she hadn't noticed my presence until I wrapped my arm around her waist, from the same side she had her wand on, preventing a response from her. She turned towards me rapidly, but her panic was short-lived as she recognized me despite my changed hair-color and my muggle-style clothing.

"Hey buddy, I was here first," said the man who was trying to convince Hermione to ditch her mystery client, but after a menacing glance from me, he proved that he had a decent sixth sense, and slunk into the shadows without saying anything.

"Hope you didn't wait for long, sweetie," I said even as my grip tightened around her waist, enjoying the way she trembled under my touch.

"Is this the best disguise you could come up with-" she whispered, but before her anger could be flamed, I pressed my lips over hers, cutting her off. It was the best proof of my rather impressive impact when she hadn't shown even a hint of resistance, melting under my touch obediently, unaware of the lengths I was about to go to enjoy the aforementioned obedience.

She readily took a step back when I pushed her, her back pressing against the chilly surface of the wall while my tongue invaded her mouth, treating myself with the cheery taste of her lips. When I pulled back, her lipstick was deliciously mussed, and her breathing was out of control. "Maybe not best, but definitely the most enjoyable one," I answered with a husky whisper while my hand danced on her leg, until it slipped underneath her skirt, enough to confirm her wetness. "And I don't think I'm the only one enjoying it, am I?"

"Let's go," she murmured, electing not to answer, not that she needed to, with her blush invading her face and her wetness covering my fingers. "Where are we going to, a hotel?" she asked, slightly louder.

"Somebody is enthusiastic," I said, my statement punctuated by a slap to her bottom. "But no, we can't risk our ID's triggering a flag, there is no guarantee that they don't have police officers in mind control, who can access these kinds of data, and a fake ID is similarly risky," I explained her with a whisper into her ear. Once again, it wasn't perfectly logical, but her current situation wasn't the best for efficient thinking. Luckily, one of the hookers chose that exact moment to interject, muddying her mind even further.

"That's your customer, new girl?" called one of the hookers as we walked away. "Young, handsome, and guessing from the way your legs are trembling, a good kisser as well. Damn, beginner's luck is really unfair." Hermione managed to mumble a nonsensical answer while I dragged away. And when we stepped into the main street, she was far too busy trying to avoid people's gaze to actually pay attention to our direction; though her attempts to fix her micro-skirt while we walked was doomed to failure, managing to catch every wandering eye. I had chosen well by sending her those clothes, though the fact that she hadn't even tried to find alternatives, or alter them magically, was equally impressive.

But soon, she learned the cost of not looking around when I forced her to stop in front of the entrance of a movie theater. And not just any theater, but a seedy one dedicated to the showing of erotic movies. "We're not going to enter here, right!" she gasped in panic, but I was already dragging her inside while she uttered those words.

"What do you think?" I countered while she looked around, wide-eyed, and I used the opportunity to cast weakened notice-me-not spell on us, not wanting to be observed by the weirdos inside. She missed the spell, her shocked attention on the half-naked pictures of the ladies, often only clothed by a strategic hug from a muscular, half-naked man.

"Two tickets please," I said as I threw more than enough money to the cashier, and walked in the theater actual, where the screen was already in the showing that was about to be completed. I knew that, because the next movie contained a rather beautiful surprise for Hermione, one that I couldn't wait to see her reaction to.

But there was still some time for the reveal of that particular surprise, the time I could leverage for intelligence sharing, while simultaneously sharing our bodies. With that in mind, I dragged her towards a middle seat, not exactly the most visible spot, but not the most hidden either. She was even quicker than me in sitting down, melding her body against mine in an effort to hide her body from the other perverts. "Why are we here, such a public place. It doesn't make sense."

"That's the reason. Death Eaters couldn't imagine someone from the Order in such a seedy place, hence they won't be looking."

"But there is a lot of other places that they wouldn't be looking," she countered.

"Yes, but this place is much more enjoyable," I said slowly while my smile widened. I put my hand on her thigh, a slow slide moving until my fingers covered with her wetness once more. "And it seems that you agree with me." She was about to say something, but I raised my fingers, her mark glistening under the flickering lights of the screen, which reflected a rather obscene pose of four people.

"The raids had been successful," she murmured with a sudden turn, trying to use the professionalism of our mission as a rope to save herself from the shame, unaware of its weakness. But I let her think that she succeeded.

"Yes, you should have seen Mr. Snake, he was absolutely furious. I think he had killed more than half-a-dozen of his followers in his resulting fit of anger, including a couple of high ranking ones." Unfortunately, Lucius wasn't one of them, but one could hardly have everything.

"Really," Hermione asked in shock, which was justified. Voldy's reaction to attacks did more damage to his organization than the attack itself, actually coming back from his Europe trip where he was trying to find the Elder Wand, the resulting shock just made the remaining Death Eaters more determined to avoid his anger.

"Yeah, he's getting really unhinged," I said. "A couple of more pushes, and he might actually defeat his own organization, achieving the height of the irony while doing so." I took a deep breath, and used the opportunity to throw my arm over her shoulder, my palm directly on her breast. "But to do that, we need to come up with another way to push him over the edge."

"But wouldn't it have too much collateral damage?" she asked.

"It will, but that's something we need to go through. It's not like we can kill him permanently. We can ambush him, but he would just come back."

"There is a way…" she murmured fleetingly, words slipping out of her mouth before her logic could assert itself, thanks to her frayed self-control.

"Really," I said, looking enthusiastic even as I squeezed her breast in celebration. Then, once again I leaned forward until my lips were pressing against her ear. "This is excellent enough to deserve its celebration. So, why don't I reward you while you explained it to me…"

"I shouldn't," she murmured, her voice trembling. I wondered whether her shock of letting such an important thing slip or her reaction to my lips dancing on her neck was responsible for her reaction. I would have liked it to be the latter, but I wasn't vain enough to reject the fact that it was probably the former. Regardless, I leveraged the skimpiness of her top to trail her body with kisses while slowly dipping into her cleavage, her shudders intensifying.

But she stayed silent.

"Come on, honey," I said as I grabbed her chin, gently raising her head to prevent her from turning away. "Do you really think you're the only one that's invested in his defeat. My life is already forfeit after giving some of the most important Death Eater secrets, it's not like I can sell the information back to him." I chuckled in genuine amusement. "And even if I hadn't, do you think he would let any Death Eater that knows his secret to immortality to live." I stopped until she nodded in acceptance.

"Still," she murmured in indecision.

"I see," I countered with a widening smile. "Now that the tables are turned, you want a worthwhile payment for your information, just like I made you pay back in the office." She was late to stammer her negative response. When her voice reached my ears, I was already on my knees, with my hands on her knees.

The expression of panic on her face was simply delicious as I forced her to part her legs, though the word forced implied a strength much above what I had used to push her legs apart. The gentlest suggestion was enough to create a nice distance between her fishnet covered legs, revealing her skimpy crimson panties, turned transparent in its wetness, meaning it wouldn't be much of a loss when I ripped them off with a sharp tug, revealing a carefully-trimmed picture underneath.

Her lips parted open, but instead of the answers I had requested, barely-muffled moans spilled out. Luckily, the sound of the movie went a long way to mask that particular noise, and the rest was handled by the weak ward around — not that she was aware of the last part; hence the mortified expression on her face as she glanced around in a panic.

Unfortunately, I didn't have the luxury of watching her delicious expression, not that the task in front of me was any less fun. My tongue darted out, beating her nether lips insistently, making her even wetter while sending flares of pleasure into her body.

Considering the situation, I wasn't surprising when she didn't start spilling the secrets of Horcluxes, though I was willing to believe it was less about the sacred trust Dumbledore had for her, and more about the sense of pleasure dominating her whole being. A pleasure that I could withhold just as easily as a punishment.

But I waited until she was starting to shook with the familiar signs of an orgasm that was about to explode. Only when she was deep enough that one last push would have toppled her, I slowed down without a warning, just enough to maintain the treatment without reaching for the point of climax. "You were about to tell me something," I reminded her when I pulled back from the hot prison between her legs.

"Right now!" she murmured incredulously, which I believed was a bit exaggerated. Considering the rather excessive things we had done in my office deep in the new ministry, it was a ridiculous question, but I was kind enough to grace it with an answer.

"Yes, right now," I answered, though I kept my fingers over her slit, gently stimulating to compensate for the absence of my tongue, just enough to keep her pleasure in the level that impaired her higher mental functions. "You were talking about breaking a certain immortality ability," I said, prodding her further. As much as it was amusing to force her spill her secrets while she was being publicly molested, I also wanted her to a point that she couldn't be exactly sure on the extent of the details she had provided me with; so that I could use my meta-knowledge without causing excessive alarm.

While it was tempting to move down to continue enjoying her unique taste, but keeping her pinned under my gaze while I continued to finger her folds was equally enjoyable. A measure of panic grew in the depths of her chocolate-brown eyes, soon to be replaced by resignation. "The source of his immortality is called Horclux…" she started, words barely above the whisper, but her gasps and moans going a long way to dispel the gloomy weight of the topic.

And just to make the situation even more fun, I hid my face underneath her skirt once more, my tongue dancing around her folds, every touch challenging her as she went through her theories about the possible locations for the founder items and likely methods of destruction, giving a lot of unintended details in her distracted state…

I kept the treatment until the moans from the movie stopped, replaced by speaking that marked the end of the movie. The next one was about to begin, and with it, Hermione would receive the surprise I had diligently set.

I decided to be merciful and let my tongue to speed up, and her aroma exploded upon my tastebuds, her cries muffled at the last moment, barely suppressed by the music of the end credits.

"I hope you were satisfied with my payment," I murmured as I took my seat back, her expression of ecstasy mixed with fear delicious enough to turn my pants into a merciless prison, which I loosened rapidly.

"I was," she murmured. Her mouth was open, ready to continue, until she noticed that I had used the opportunity to loosen my belt, revealing my erection to her attention, visible even in the relative darkness of the theater.

A smirk was the only response for her panicked look. "Come on, you need to stick to your role, enough the justify the way you dressed." She didn't even bother to argue, and leaned forward to wrap her lips around my girth. Unfortunately, I had other ideas. I wanted her to have a perfect view of the next movie. My fingers wrapped around her wrist, and a sharp pull later, she found herself on my lap, her lack of underwear giving me the access I needed to slide inside her, made easier by her wetness.

This time, she failed to muffle her gasp in time, loud enough to overcome the weak notice-me-not charm around us momentarily, earning a few curious looks. She sent me a begging look, but I ignored in favor of placing my hands on her hips, directly to her skin which pushed her skirt up. There would be no hiding the fact that we were fucking if someone had been in the same row as us, but the theater wasn't that crowded.

Without an explicit reaction from our surroundings, she elected to keep her arguments obscured. Soon, the movie started, though she wasn't paying attention much, until the female lead of the movie appeared on the screen.

"Impossible," she gasped in shock, her eyes locked on the screen while I continued to ravage her... The next few minutes were going to be fun for me, and enlightening for her, particularly on perils of poorly-constructed plans.

* * *

 **Author notes: And Hermione is confronted by one of her mistakes, in a place and in a way that she least expected...**


End file.
